


The Littlest Chancellor

by Jarino



Series: Manon Tabris, Hero of Ferelden [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Celebrations, Dragon Age Lore, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Experimentation, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Great Dragons, Grey Warden Secrets, Grey Wardens, Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, King Alistair (Dragon Age), Letters, Party, Politics, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Pregnancy, Research, Reunions, Rumors, Search for a Cure, The Blight (Dragon Age), The Breach (Dragon Age), The Taint (Dragon Age), the Tirashan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23998528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarino/pseuds/Jarino
Summary: It’s been nearly ten years since the end of the Fifth Blight, and Manon and Alistair have both adjusted well to their lives in court. However, the taint is a persistent reminder in the back of their minds that their happiness will not last forever. Spurred by a new lead, Manon takes the initiative to pursue a cure for their Calling once and for all. Though she must leave behind her love, it will all be worth it once she accomplishes the impossible.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Tabris (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Manon Tabris, Hero of Ferelden [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/332593
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Dragon Age Den fic collection





	1. Memento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after the Fifth Blight, Manon and Alistair are well-adjusted to their life in court. Their relationship is still under scrutiny from nobility, however, and Manon can’t seem to put their connection to the taint out of her mind.

“So you see, miss…”

“Chancellor.”

The man before her faltered. “I beg your pardon?”

Smiling coolly, Manon continued, “I have a title, my lord. It would behoove you to use it.”

“Ah, yes, well…” he tugged at his collar, though he was clearly miffed at her interruption. “Chancellor…I would greatly appreciate the king’s aid in this matter. After all, Dragonmount can provide plenty of support in the coming Landsmeet.”

Manon blinked slowly, staring at him evenly. “I am sure that’s true, Bann Harkwold, but I also believe the king would disagree with your methods. There must be a more humane solution to this problem.”

“Humane?” the man spat. “They’re mages…Nothing human about them. The Maker turned his back on them and I see no reason why I shouldn’t do the same.”

“Whether they are _human_ has little to do with how we treat our subjects, milord,” Manon said through gritted teeth, tucking her hair behind a pointed ear for emphasis. “They are still citizens of Ferelden and we will treat them as such.”

The false pretenses on the Bann’s face soon began to crumble. “Should have expected as much from a knife-ear…” he grumbled.

Manon’s fist clenched tightly beneath the table, though her face remained an expressionless mask. Sighing, she rose from her seat, a smile forming on her face. “I see…”

Making her way to the window, she addressed the man without facing him. “How is your wife, my lord? Is she well?”

He looked at her in confusion. “What in the Maker’s name does that have to do with-?”

“I happen to hear a lot of rumors in my work…One can never be too sure where the truth lies these days, you know? And I happened to overhear a _terrible_ rumor the other day…Some say you are sleeping around with your maids.” She turned to him, then, her eyes falsely sympathetic. “I would _hate_ to have to break this news to your wife.”

Bann Harkwold growled, rising from his seat in anger. “Are you _threatening_ me?!”

Manon lifted a hand to her chest in feigned offense. “Goodness, no! I would simply hate for a nice woman like Lucinda to find herself married to such an unfaithful soul…” Tilting her head, she added, “But so long as you truly are a loyal husband, there shouldn’t be any issue…right?”

He stared at her in contempt, trembling with ire. 

“Oh, and while we’re at it, I’m sure you’d be willing to leave those mage encampments alone for the time being, right?”

She extended her hand for a handshake, offering a pleasant smile, which he completely ignored. 

“This isn’t the end of this…” he growled before storming out of the room.

Once he’d left, Manon relaxed and allowed a more genuine smile to appear on her face. “No…I’m pretty sure it is.”

Sighing, she departed the meeting room, glancing around before spotting an elven servant.

“Milly…” she whispered as she approached. “Has it been done?”

The elf offered a bright grin in response. “Just as you’d asked. We managed to sneak her out without anyone spotting her.”

Manon let out a breath of relief. “Thank you…Maker watch over her…I can only hope she’ll make it out there on her own…”

“You did the right thing, my lady. She was innocent, and we all know it.”

Giving a wry smile, Manon said, “Yes, well…I know all too well what it’s like to be imprisoned wrongly…” She looked around before adding, “You mustn’t speak of this to anyone, though. I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

Milly shook her head. “Don’t worry about me, my lady. We’re stick by you no matter what.”

“I appreciate that,” Manon said warmly before bidding her farewell.

She made her way down the stone hall until she reached a wooden door. Pushing it open, she was greeted with a bright splash of sunlight as she entered the garden.

Walking slowly along the pathway, her long skirt brushing the grass, she allowed herself to simply take in the sights and smells around her. This was her favorite place in the world. Alistair had remodeled the garden shortly after becoming king and he’d done it all for her. Having this space to come and relax was the best gift she could ever ask for.

As she bent down near a trellis to appreciate a set of blooming buds, she heard voices from the other side of the fence.

“Maker, I know…How has the king managed to keep that harlot for so long?”

Manon could feel her spirit begin to sink. She knew this conversation. It was something she overheard on a near weekly basis.

“I know…He keeps playing pretend as though she’s a _proper_ queen. Bah! Since when could an elf be ruler of Ferelden?”

“It’s been ten years and he doesn’t even have an heir…Not only is she a knife-ear, but she’s infertile. Can’t even give him a bastard.”

“Everyone knows she’s just a plaything. He’ll drop her as soon as he finds a proper wife.”

“If only…Maybe then she’d be gone from court. That weaseling wench is really getting on my nerves…”

Deciding she’d heard enough, Manon rose from her spot, leaving that spot of the garden behind.

She did her best to push away the negative thoughts rising in her mind, keeping her focus solely on the gazebo ahead of her. Once there, she took her seat in her private nook, easing onto the bench in silence.

She’d managed not to have an outburst of emotion just yet, though she still trembled outwardly.

It was then that she noticed a patch of roses peeking over the railing of her gazebo. Staring at them blankly, she reached forward to pull one of the flowers closer. It was rotting on the edges, with signs of insect infestation as well.

It was damaged. Just like her.

Pulling the rose from its stem, she cradled it gently in her hands, feeling just how dry and withered its petals had become.

It had been nearly ten years since the Blight. 

Alistair had become king, she had become his chancellor, and though they struggled daily, they had somehow made something of themselves. They had become closer than ever and were positively in love.

But still, her womb lay empty. Because of her tainted body. 

Both of them still carried the taint within themselves. Even though they’d left the Wardens behind, they couldn’t abandon what the Order had done to them. Every day, the Blight within them grew stronger. Every day they were one step closer to making their Calling. She tried to put it out of her mind as much as possible, but every so often, it would creep up on her, reminding her that her time with Alistair was limited.

A few tears fell from her eyes unbidden, landing on the petals of the damaged rose.

She’d saved Ferelden. She’d stopped a civil war and defeated an Archdemon and yet she was not allowed her happily ever after. She was allowed two decades of happiness at most before the darkness would force them to accept their fate. 

Before her wallowing could get too deep, a voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Manon whipped her head up to see Alistair leaning against the doorway of the gazebo, looking at her with soft eyes.

Glancing back down, she wiped at her eyes before muttering, “Hi…”

He approached her quietly, taking a seat beside her before gently pulling the rose from her hand.

“Hm…” he noted. “Looks like this one’s struggling a bit.”

Manon didn’t say anything.

“We might have been able to help it, but it looks like you pulled it off before giving it a chance to grow.”

She looked up at him slowly, a sniff escaping her. She knew what he was doing.

Carefully, he took her hand and placed the rose back in it. “Perhaps if we nurture this patch a little more…it will heal, and will produce the brightest flowers in the garden.”

“There is no cure,” she muttered, crushing the flower in her hand. “Just delaying the inevitable.”

Alistair stared at her for a moment. “Ah,” he said, his voice lowering. “That’s what this is about.”

She nodded absently, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Sighing, he pulled her in close, rubbing his hand along her arm. “I thought we agreed we’d make the most of the time we have left?”

“I know, but…” she groaned. “It’s going by too quickly…and…I worry about the future.”

“How so?” he asked softly.

“We still don’t have a child…” she uttered, causing him to still his ministrations.

Sitting upright, he turned to look at her. “Hey…Look at me. I know what the nobles are saying, but forget about them. I love you no matter what. We don’t need an heir to prove that.”

“I know,” she said with annoyance. “And even though I want to have kids with you, that’s not what I mean…” Looking at him sadly, she continued, “What will happen when we’re gone? When the Blight comes for us and we leave this world for good? Who will rule Ferelden then?”

“Well, I mean…” Alistair looked away, uncertain. “I imagine they’ll have another Landsmeet.”

“Yes, but…Even if we could advocate for someone in advance, I don’t…I don’t trust any of them to rule. Not the same way you do, Alistair.”

She shook her head and sighed. “Back when we had to deal with Loghain, I backed your claim to the throne because I knew if anyone could make a change in this world, it was you. And while we haven’t done much this last decade, it’s been _something_. But I know that if anyone else were to take the throne, they either wouldn’t push for the same progress, or they would actively try to undo it.”

“I suppose that’s true…” he muttered.

Manon paused before adding her next thought. “And while technically I know Morrigan could… _fix_ that potential problem, I promised her that her child wouldn’t become involved in all this. And I really don’t want to go back on that promise.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Manon,” Alistair said calmly, “but what do you expect us to do? No one has ever just cured the taint before. I mean, the closest thing to a cure we have is the Joining, but like you said, that’s just putting off the inevitable.”

She sat in silence for a minute, pondering her thoughts. “Truffles was cured,” she said after a while.

Alistair let out a snort. “Manon, he’s a dog. And they managed to catch it early. It’s not the same.”

“No, but it’s something!” she insisted. “That flower had special properties…I know eating one now wouldn’t do anything, but if it were combined with other ingredients, it might do something, right?”

“Manon…” Alistair said skeptically.

“No, just listen! I mean…remember Avernus? He was doing experiments on the Blight. While his methods were not morally just, he managed to extend his life far beyond what should be reasonable…There have to be others like that…People researching the taint. If I did some research of my own, maybe I could…”

Alistair leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Manon, I love you. But please, don’t waste your life looking into something impossible.”

Glaring at him, she retorted, “I seem to remember accomplishing the impossible before.” Pulling away, she stood up. “I should have died killing the Archdemon. That was the rule the Wardens had created. And yet, with Morrigan’s help, we defied fate. We changed our destiny.”

Turning to look at him, she declared, “I don’t see why I can’t make the impossible happen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh...remember 4 years ago when I said I had a sequel planned for "The Littlest Warden?"
> 
> Ta-da!!! :D I'm only a few years late...ha...ha....
> 
> Ok, but really, among other reasons like work and writer's block, the main reason this took so long to start is because the entire plot revolves around having a concrete cure for the taint...During my initial hardcore research, I was getting frustrated because I couldn't seem to find anything that would definitely fit into canon. Eventually I realized it doesn't actually matter if it doesn't completely fit canon. The Warden probably won't even be mentioned in DA4 and even if the cure somehow gets revealed, it won't be the end of the world. I'm gonna have fun with this.


	2. Call to Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding her first real lead, Manon manages to convince Alistair that she needs to embark on her quest.

Manon was going through her piles of mail. Most of it was posturing by nobles asking for favors from the king or trying to curry favor of their own, but still, it was her job to respond to each of them.

She halted upon coming across a letter embossed with the seal of the Wardens.

Quickly, she opened it up, scanning its contents.

_Dear Chancellor Tabris,_

_I wanted to thank you for reaching out to me. It has been many years since we last spoke and the Blight is long over, so it means a great deal to hear from you now._

_Work has been much the same; we are investigating the occasional sighting near underground tunnels, but otherwise, Ferelden has remained free of any darkspawn threats. There have also been no signs of the Architect, either, which is a great relief. Some of the higher ups at Weisshaupt seemed uncertain if he is truly dead, and while I killed him with my own two hands, I can’t help but share their fears._

_In regards to your last message, I did some thinking and I believe you may wish to seek out Grand Enchanter Fiona. Back when I was stationed in Orlais, though I never met her in person, I heard stories about her. When I inquired about why she was no longer a Warden, my superior merely stated that she was unable to retake the Joining. Though I have no idea how it’s possible, it seems as though she somehow rid herself of the taint._

_This may not be what you were inquiring about, but I thought it interesting nonetheless. In any case, I hope this information can be of assistance to you. Should you need my help again, please do not hesitate to reach out._

_Yours,_

_Warden-Commander Caron of Ferelden_

Manon dropped the paper from her hands, staring into the space before her. After several long moments of silence, she sprung from her chair and ran out into the hall.

“Alistair!” she cried, bursting into his office.

His head shot up from his desk and he stood up to meet her halfway. “What is it? Maker, Manon, what’s wrong?”

Running into his arms, she pressed a kiss against his cheek and laughed. “Nothing’s wrong…” Smiling widely, tears of joy began to well in her eyes. “I have a lead…”

“A…lead?” he asked in confusion.

“The Grand Enchanter…she used to be a Warden. The operative phrase being ‘used to.’” She laughed again. “She doesn’t have the taint, Alistair.”

He opened his mouth in shock, staring at her agape for a few seconds. “That’s…Are you certain?”

She nodded frantically. “Positive. Warden-Commander Caron told me herself.”

He let go of her before making his way to his desk and leaning over it. “Maker…I didn’t think it was possible…”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

Looking at her in uncertainty, he wavered. “Manon…”

“No, just listen!” she insisted. “You don’t understand…This is the first real lead I’ve had…I’ve spent the last month poring over the libraries of Denerim and I’ve barely learned anything. But this woman…She’s done what I’m trying to accomplish! If I could just speak to her, I could get myself on the right track…Figure this out for real!”

“Manon, if…If you wish to speak to her, that’s fine, but you make it sound like you’re going to up and leave…”

She paused, turning away and avoiding eye contact. “I…Do you remember a few years ago when you ventured to Antiva with those people?”

Alistair sighed. “What are you getting at?”

“You were following a small lead…Hoping to find any information about your father…And it ended up leading you on a journey all the way to Tevinter.” She met his gaze once more, her eyes pleading. “What I’m saying is…Whatever she ends up telling me, I’m going to pursue it. I am going to do whatever it takes to break this curse of ours, Alistair.”

Gritting his teeth, Alistair pushed away from the desk. “Damn it…You can’t just leave!”

Crossing her arms, Manon asked, “And why not? It’s not as though we haven’t had to leave each other behind for political events before. How is this any different?”

“Because you might not come back!” he shouted, his expression pained. Cursing, he turned away and leaned his arm against the nearby bookshelf.

Cautiously, Manon approached, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You know I will. The whole point of this is so that we can spend the rest of our lives together…”

“How can you be so sure?” Alistair asked, his voice cracking. “What if you just end up on a wild goose chase and waste the last years of your life away? Years we could have spent enjoying the time we had left together…”

“Alistair…Look at me.”

Reluctantly, he allowed her to turn his face towards her and stared at her with sad eyes.

“I won’t let that happen…If I end up realizing that I’m hitting a dead end, I’ll come back. I don’t want to waste our precious time together, either.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “But make no mistake…If there is even the slightest chance that I can find a cure, I’m going to pursue it.”

He looked at her for a long while, his eyes flitting over her face before he let out a defeated sigh. “If I say no, you’ll just sneak out and leave without saying goodbye, won’t you?”

Manon let out a wry chuckle. “You know me too well”

Pulling her in to a tight embrace, he sighed. “You are too stubborn for your own good.”

“I love you, Alistair.”

“And I, you,” he whispered, pulling her closer. “Please…come back to me.”

\------

As she was finishing her packing, Manon double checked the contents of her bag. She had no idea how long she’d be gone for, but she wanted to be as prepared as she could.

Satisfied that she had everything, she pulled her cloak over her armor and made to leave, but her mabari blocked the doorway.

Plopping down at her feet, Truffles let out a long, sad whine.

Smiling, she bent down to his level and pet his head. “I can’t fool you, huh? You know I’m leaving, don’t you?”

He responded with another pitiful whine.

“As much as I wish I could take you with me, I can’t…It will be easier to go unnoticed on my own and besides…” She gave him a grin. “I need you here with Alistair. You can protect him while I’m gone, can’t you?”

He perked up a little, letting out an excited bark before reaching up to lick her face.

Giggling, she embraced the puppy kisses, pulling the hound in for a tight hug before kissing him on the forehead. Ruffling his fur, she gave him a longing smile before making her way into the hall.

Alistair was waiting for her in the foyer, standing about anxiously. As she approached, he immediately turned her way. “Do you have everything?”

“I guess so. I double checked, so I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You’re not bringing Truffles?”

Shaking her head, she responded, “No…I wish I could, but he’s getting too old. I can’t rationalize bringing him with me.”

“I’ll take good care of him here. Extra treats, lots of belly rubs, the works.”

Manon laughed, though it quickly died out. She stared at the ground for a while before lifting her gaze to Alistair; his eyes were just as melancholy as hers. They approached each other simultaneously, pulling one another into a tight hug.

Alistair tucked his nose into her shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Promise you’ll come back soon. You know how useless I am without you.”

Manon laughed, though she was also fighting back tears. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a better king than you give yourself credit for.”

Pulling back, she looked into his eyes and felt the tears come in full force then. She desperately tugged him in for a kiss, pouring out her feelings in ways she couldn’t express with words. She absolutely hated being apart from him like this, but it would all be worth it in the end. If she could exchange a few months for a long, happy life, then it was ultimately the best option.

Reluctantly, they eventually parted, though their touch lingered on one another for a long while.

“Will you at least write?” Alistair asked, hopeful.

Her expression saddened and she shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t…You know I have enemies in court. If they know I’m alone out there, I could become a target…We have to keep this as quiet as possible.”

His face deflated and he sighed. “I understand…I hate it when you’re so smart.”

“With any luck, it’ll save both of our lives,” she said with a sardonic smile.

Alistair attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, staring at her for a long while before he spoke again. “Well then,” he said before clearing his throat. “I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time.”

She took his hand in hers, holding it to her heart before pressing a kiss against his palm. Looking into his eyes, she smiled. “I’ll be back before you know it.”


	3. It's Never Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon meets with Grand Enchanter Fiona and learns a great deal more than she’d anticipated.

Staring up at the Montsimmard Circle tower, Manon craned her neck to take in its height. It had been several years since she had visited any of the Circles personally. She hoped her status would be enough to warrant her way inside.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the front door. One of the Templars standing guard looked her over with suspicion. “Yes? How may I help you?”

“Good afternoon, ser,” Manon said with a bow. “I am Chancellor Manon Tabris of King Alistair. I sent word to Grand Enchanter Fiona that I wished to speak with her.”

The Templar grunted, turning to his fellow knight. The man in question appeared much younger and fresh out of training. Flinching at his superior’s gaze, he took the hint and scurried off inside.

A minute passed before he returned, stopping in a salute. “Apologies, mademoiselle. Please, come with me.”

Manon offered the other Templar a friendly smile before following the young recruit inside.

He led her up several flights of stairs, passing by various groups of mages engaged in conversation. They all seemed to hush whenever the pair got too close. She could only assume it was because of their strained relationship with the Templars.

Manon couldn’t help but sigh. She and Alistair had done what they could to ease the severity of the repercussions of Kirkwall, but their influence could only go so far. Between trying to help the city elves, protecting innocent mages from heretics, and maintaining the support of the nobles, they were spread pretty thin. 

The young Templar guided her to a study off to the side and paused in the doorway. “Grand Enchanter…You have a visitor.”

A sigh could be heard from inside before the voice responded. “Thank you, Antoine…I will see to them.”

He nodded in acknowledgement to Manon before scurrying off down the hallway.

Turning back to the room, she made her way inside. “Grand Enchanter?”

The woman in question glanced up from a piece of parchment before returning her gaze to the sheet. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Manon Tabris, my lady,” she said in a low bow, “Chancellor to King Alistair.”

Fiona seemed to pause at the mention of Alistair’s name, though her expression remained schooled. “Ah…I’m afraid I don’t have time for political favors. I have more urgent matters that require my attention for now.”

“I completely understand. Things for the Circles are more complicated now than ever…” Manon said, taking a step closer. “However, I am not here on behalf of my king…I was hoping I could speak to you about a more personal matter…”

Fiona looked at her fully then, taking a moment to process her words before setting down the page she’d been looking at. “And what might that be?”

Glancing back at the open doorway, Manon hesitated. “Perhaps it would be best if we spoke alone? It’s a bit of a…sensitive matter.”

At Fiona’s silence, Manon added, “Ah…That is…I know I’m probably not that trustworthy, considering how many people are probably seeking to target you, but I can assure you I’m not here for anything like that.”

A small smile cracked on her face. “No need to worry. I’m certain I can handle you myself.” Stepping away from her desk, she motioned for Manon to follow. “Come. I have a place we can speak privately.”

Manon followed eagerly, keeping in step behind her as Fiona led her down a series of hallways. Eventually, they found themselves in a small nook, otherwise invisible unless you knew to look for it.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs, Fiona asked, “So…What was it you wished to speak about?”

Manon sat down across from her, taking a moment to sort out her thoughts. “I’m…certain you know that Alistair and I fought in the Fifth Blight. And that we were Wardens.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And…you know that Wardens who have been tainted for a long time must eventually face their Calling…”

Fiona’s expression darkened somewhat and she nodded. “Indeed.”

“No one has ever fully beaten the taint before…No one except for you,” Manon uttered, looking deeply into the Grand Enchanter’s eyes.

Fiona exhaled deeply, closing her eyes. “You want to know how I did it.”

“Yes,” Manon said desperately.

“I’m afraid I won’t be of much help to you, then. The Wardens at Weisshaupt already tried to figure out the cause back when it first happened. They were unsuccessful. They even attempted to have me undergo the Joining again. And yet, here I am.”

“There must be something they overlooked,” Manon insisted. “Please…Any small details you can remember.”

Fiona looked her over slowly before shaking her head. “It’s admirable what you’re trying to do, but I’m afraid that you won’t succeed. I would suggest putting your efforts elsewhere instead.”

“ _Please,”_ Manon said emphatically, leaning forward in her chair. “If not for me, then for Alistair. I have to save him from this curse.”

Blinking in shock, Fiona stared at her, meeting her gaze with confusion. After several moments of silence, she spoke, her voice quiet and stunned. “So the rumors are true then…”

“I…Which rumors? You’ll have to be more specific.”

She chuckled before smiling wryly. “You’re in love.”

It was said so simply, but it still hit Manon squarely in her chest. Most of the time, when people deduced “the truth”, they assumed her to be Alistair’s mistress or concubine or some other belittling role. Few ever saw their relationship for what it really was.

At a loss for words, she merely nodded.

Another chuckle escaped Fiona and she shook her head. “It happened again…” she muttered under her breath.

“Come again?”

“Sorry,” Fiona said with a smile. “I’m just admiring the Maker’s sense of humor…”

Manon tilted her head in confusion, not comprehending what she was talking about.

“Very well, then…” she continued, looking Manon in the eyes. “I will tell you what I remember.”

She leaned back in her chair, taking a moment to collect her memories before beginning. “It all began around 9:10…A group of us Wardens were going on an expedition to the Deep Roads. We had recruited King Maric to guide us, given that he had traveled that particular area before…”

Fiona continued her story for a good while, covering the unique areas they uncovered, the Architect’s plot to plunge the world into a perpetual Blight, as well as the First Enchanter’s betrayal.

“By the time it was all said and done, Duncan and I were the only Wardens left. He had been protected from the spread of the taint thanks to a dagger he had stolen earlier on our expedition, but I was not as lucky. The taint had covered a good portion of my body. I was certain that my time would come soon.

“However, I was soon proven wrong…In the weeks following the excursion, the marks slowly began to disappear. Eventually, they were gone entirely.”

Manon looked at her curiously, trying to piece ideas together as she listened.

“The Wardens at Weisshaupt didn’t know what to make of it. Not only that, but they returned to Kul-Baras and found neither any trace of the Architect, nor any evidence of its work.”

Manon shook her head. “There has to be something…Some sort of link.”

Fiona looked at her carefully, gauging her reactions for a while before speaking again. “Back when this happened, I never thought too hard about the reason why. I was thankful for my life, though I regretted the scorn I received from my fellow Wardens for cheating death…

“Looking back on it now, though, there is one detail I overlooked when I told my story to the First Warden. And the timing of it…is not inconsequential.”

Glancing up sharply, Manon’s eyes bore into Fiona’s.

Smiling sadly, Fiona looked at the floor. “While we were on this quest, Maric and I…grew somewhat close. We shared a night together and…My taint began to fade around the same time that a babe grew within me. “

Manon froze, trying to process what Fiona was saying.

A babe. King Maric. Thirty years ago.

It couldn’t be. 

Her jaw fell open involuntarily and she gaped at the mage. “You…you aren’t saying…”

Fiona looked at her kindly, though her eyes still carried a heavy sorrow. 

“But…But how?” Manon ran a hand through her hair, turning her gaze to her knees. “His mother was a human maid…Right?”

“Is that the story they told?” She chuckled. “Good. I had hoped for as much.”

“What?” Manon looked at her in confusion. “Why?”

Exhaling softly, Fiona looked away. “You’re an elf. You know the hardships our people endure. Even in positions of power like the ones we hold, respect seems to be a rarity. To them, we are rabbits first and people second.”

Manon flinched, knowing all too well how true her words rang.

“I didn’t want him to have to endure that. To be ridiculed as the bastard child of an elf.” She shook her head sadly. “Besides, if the Wardens knew about him, I wouldn’t have been allowed to keep him anyway.”

Sighing, she glanced back to Manon. “Maric tried to convince me to live in the palace with him…He truly thought we could make for a proper couple. I thought him mad at the time, but…” Looking into Manon’s eyes, she smiled. “Perhaps I was the fool after all.”

Manon shook her head in disbelief, unsure how to handle the emotions warring within her right now. Part of her was furious with Fiona for subjecting Alistair to his awful childhood at the hands of the Arlessa, but she also knew that wasn’t her fault. And while she wouldn’t have made the same decision were she in her shoes, she understood why Fiona made the choice she did.

“Please…” Manon begged. “You need to meet him. He’d want to know that it’s you.” She gazed at Fiona earnestly, hoping to convince her.

She looked shocked at the notion before chuckling somberly. “I’m…afraid it’s a little too late for that.”

“It’s never too late,” Manon insisted. “He’s lost his family…For him to know the truth…to meet you in person…I just know it would mean the world to him.”

Fiona sighed deeply, shutting her eyes in frustration before gradually opening them. “Things are…complicated right now, to say the least.” Glancing up at Manon she continued, “But perhaps…once this is all resolved…”

Manon’s face lit up immediately and she smiled widely. “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Yes, well…I’m not sure if revealing that was all that helpful, to be honest…It’s possible that my pregnancy was what cured me, but even if it was, I have no idea as to why that would be the case.”

Stories Alistair had passed to her from Antiva and Tevinter flashed through Manon’s consciousness. Great dragons. Dreamers. The Magrallen. King Maric.

Recognition sparked in her mind and she nearly fell from her seat with the force of her realization.

“I…may have an idea,” Manon uttered softly, still recovering from her shock.

“That is…unexpected, but fortunate,” Fiona said with an incline of her head. “Perhaps I was more help than I believed, then?”

Small tears began to pool in Manon’s eyes and she nodded furiously. “More than you know.”

Smiling gently, Fiona rose from her seat. “I’m glad, then.”

Forgoing all traces of etiquette, Manon leapt from her seat and threw her arms around the Grand Enchanter, embracing her in a hug. The woman startled immediately, but after a few moments, seemed to accept the gesture.

“ _Thank you,”_ Manon whispered.

“I wish you luck…” Fiona replied, squeezing her arms. “May the Maker guide you on your path.”

Blinking away her tears, Manon stepped back and smiled. 

She still felt overwhelmed at the plethora of information Fiona had bombarded her with, but above all else, she felt hopeful. If her hunch was right, there was a possibility she could actually accomplish what she’d set out to do. It was going to take a lot of research, but she was willing to do whatever it took to make it happen.


	4. This is New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While reviewing her research, Manon is confronted with a possibly world-ending event.

_Theirin bloodline carries blood of the great dragons_

_Calenhad drank great dragon blood Reaver style to gain power_

_Normal Reavers aren’t immune to taint – normal dragon blood is ruled out_

_Yavana woke the high dragons after they were believed extinct_

_Wanted Alistair to wake the great dragons_

_None at the Silent Grove…other possible locations?_

_Where was the dragon Calenhad found?_

_Said that dragons ruled the skies before the Veil was made_

_“The blood of the dragons is the blood of the world”_

_Possible “Queen of Dragons”?_

_Aurelian Titus used Maric’s blood, powering a Magrallen, to steal his draconic power_

_Wanted to reshape the world with this power_

_Connection to the Dreamers of Tevinter_

_Old Gods = Great Dragons?_

_Old Gods can be tainted into Archdemons, though_

_Do the Old Gods merely take the form of dragons? Something else entirely?_

Sighing, Manon continued flipping through her notebook, going over her research yet again.

She’d been on the road for months now, and while Fiona’s information had given her a significant push in the right direction, she still wasn’t making much headway.

While it was certainly possible that the blood of the great dragons was the key to a cure, she didn’t have enough evidence to solidly back it up. And even if she did, she had no idea where to find said great dragons.

Alistair had said that the Silent Grove had held no trace of the beasts. Yavana, the witch who guarded the sanctuary, had only awoken the high dragons. The great ones were nowhere to be found.

And yet she had wanted Alistair to wake them, which meant that they had to be slumbering _somewhere_ …

Taking another sip of ale, she leaned her head on her hand.

Manon had been pursuing other possible leads, as well. She’d searched through all possible records of the past Blights, short of traveling to Weisshaupt, where she knew her research would not be welcome.

She also spent time researching different plants and their ties to the Blight. There was the flower from the Korcari Wilds that had helped Truffles back when he’d been tainted at Ostagar, though its healing properties were minimal at best. Still, if she managed to determine a more viable cure, it could always be used as a supplementary ingredient.

Then there was the elusive felicidus aria, the only plant capable of growing in the tainted Silent Plains. The flower was close to extinction, however, due to its use in ambrosia. Vandal aria was the closest relative though, so it could potentially work as a substitute.

Deep mushrooms were another interesting possibility. While they didn’t necessarily hold any ties to a cure, plenty of researchers noted that they grew near both lyrium veins and the blight; two vastly different ecosystems. Perhaps they were merely drawn to magic, as Manon had learned through Avernus’ research that those who carried the taint could wield their own form of magic.

Scratching her head, she closed her book and took another sip of her drink. She was going in circles…Perhaps it was best she rest for the evening and take a fresh start tomorrow.

She glanced up out of the corner of her eye only to notice a man at another table staring at her. Great.

Sighing, she directed her gaze back to her mug. Her hood was pulled up, so it was unlikely he’d noticed her ears, but even so, she didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to herself.

It didn’t seem to matter, though, for soon enough, she heard footsteps approaching. She told herself he was just going to the bar from another drink, but when she heard him stop beside her table, she knew that wasn’t true.

“Oi,” he said gruffly.

Manon exhaled softly before turning to look at him. “Yes?”

“You’ve been staring at me for a while now. What’s your problem?”

She hadn’t. It was possible she’d spaced out for a moment in her contemplation, but it couldn’t have been for very long. Clearly, he just wanted trouble.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry ain’t good enough,” he said, leaning into her space. His breath smelled absolutely horrid. And his accent certainly wasn’t Orlesian. He was probably a merchant or something similar. “I know just how to teach folks like you a lesson.”

He moved to reach for something on his belt, but she was faster. Before he could even part his cloak, she’d pulled a dagger to his throat, holding it steadily in place.

“Oh?” she asked calmly, pressing the blade a hair closer. “Enlighten me.”

He sputtered in frustration, taken aback by her actions. She could see a bead of sweat make its way down his brow before he eventually backed away. “Bitch…” he spat, returning to his booth.

Not paying him any more mind, Manon returned her attention to her drink, though she could feel his eyes on her for the next several minutes. He might still be trouble.

She’d gone out of her way during her travels to keep as low a profile as possible, yet for some reason, troublemakers had a habit of finding their way to her. She’d probably have to push her bed against the door tonight. Again.

She was just about to head up to her room when a cacophonous noise boomed outside the window.

The whole building shook and everyone looked up in alarm.

Sensing danger, Manon instinctively grabbed her crossbow from her back and ran outside. She couldn’t have possibly been prepared for what she’d find.

The sky had been torn asunder.

Verdant lights illuminated the sky, shooting down in arcs like meteors. The townspeople screamed in horror, and as Manon followed the screams, she soon realized it was because of more than just the sky.

Demons.

A tear in reality, not unlike the gaping hole in the sky, had appeared in the streets. And demons were pouring out of it.

She stood stock-still, unable to comprehend what was happening. She’d faced demons before, but this…

Another scream pulled her from her shock and moved her into action.

She began firing bolts at the creatures, assisting the few guardsmen in the area. _Fight now, worry about the hole in the sky later,_ she told herself.

Luckily, most of the creatures that had appeared were merely wraiths and shades, but it didn’t take long for Manon to realize that they just…kept coming. Wave after wave, there seemed to be no end to them.

She looked around, realizing that most of the people in the area seemed to have fled.

Glancing back at the tear in the sky, she hesitated.

Normally, this is the sort of thing she would help with. It would have been exactly the kind of task she’d taken on during the Blight. Now, however…she felt completely out of her depth. It would be one thing if she knew how to stop the demons from coming, but that didn’t seem like a possibility.

Looking back at the guards fighting the demons, she took a step back. And then another. Turning on her heel, she ran.

Overwhelming guilt lodged in her throat as she escaped, but she had no choice. There was no end to those monsters…Staying to fight a pointless battle was beyond her. The townspeople had seemingly escaped…she could only hope that the guards would be able to do the same.

As much as it pained her to run, she had a task of her own she needed to complete. Throwing her life away in a pointless battle would accomplish nothing.

She just hoped that some other hero would be willing to take on the task of saving the world this time around…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty short chapter this time, but it felt like the best place to end it.


	5. Playing With Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon searches the Western Approach for a certain Draconology expert. Later, she is contacted by a new party.

Word of the Herald of Andraste, now known as the Inquisitor, had long since spread to Orlais. It had been nearly five months since the Breach had appeared, after all.

Every so often, Manon would see Inquisition agents either on the road or in the towns she passed through. It was hard to ignore their presence these days. She did her best to continue keeping a low profile, however. The last thing she needed was to be roped into another organization bent on saving mankind. She was satisfied to appreciate the work they were doing and leave it at that.

She did find it interesting to note that the Inquisitor was apparently a Dalish elf. It struck her as odd that the humans would place an elf in such a position of power, much less a non-Andrastian one, but she took it as an optimistic sign. Perhaps there was hope for her people yet. Once she’d achieved her goal, she might try reaching out to this Inquisitor.

For now, however, the Inquisition was largely an unknown to her, and she preferred to play it safe for the time being.

She had continued following various trails over the past few months, pursuing various rumors and accessing new sources of research when she could. At the moment, her search had led her to the Western Approach.

Maker, she’d never known heat quite like this before.

Walking directly in the sun was unavoidable for a good chunk of her travels, despite how often she tried to cling to rock formations, and the heat was positively sweltering. She could feel sweat pooling in every nook and cranny. Combine that with the fact she had sand in places she didn’t know could _get_ sand, and she was uncomfortable to say the least.

Manon could only hope it would be worth it. If she were able to find this professor of Draconology, it might put her in the proper direction.

After speaking with a few people at the University of Orlais, they had directed her towards the studies of Frederic of Serault. She’d tirelessly pored over all the material available at the school, but it only got her so far. She felt she would have much greater luck speaking to the man directly. And as it so happened, he was currently on an expedition to the deserts west of Orlais.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she stopped and stretched.

She hoped she’d find him soon. Being in the Approach for weeks was beginning to take its toll on her.

As she stood there, an unfamiliar sound caught her ears. At first, she thought she’d just imagined it, but after a few more moments of listening, she realized that she was hearing running water.

Picking up her pace, she hurried in the direction of the sound, and after rounding a boulder, came across a creek. Manon practically threw herself into the brook in her desperation for relief.

She eagerly splashed water in her face before moving to fill her water skin.

For a few moments she was able to just relax. Not only was the water absolutely refreshing, but because of how low into the valley it sat, there was plenty of shade nearby.

Her reverie was cut short at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Flinching, she reached for her crossbow, preparing to fight, but relaxed upon seeing who’d interrupted her.

A man dressed in fancy Orlesian silks with a bright crimson mask startled upon seeing her weapon. “Ah! My apologies! I didn’t mean to alarm you,” he said with a slight bow. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else out here. Most travelers usually pass through the Inquisition camp just over the ridge.”

Looking up at him carefully, she returned her crossbow to its holster. “It’s no trouble…Being out here alone has made me a bit jumpy…I’m just in the middle of looking for someone.”

“Oh? Perhaps I could be of assistance. I see a great many things from my camp.”

She inspected his mask and garb. It seemed odd for someone of his status to be all the way out here…Then again, he’d mentioned the Inquisition, so anything was possible. She couldn’t truly be this lucky, could she?

“I’m searching for a Professor Frederic of Serault. Have you come across him, by chance?”

He let out a jovial laugh. “Why, only every time I look in the mirror…” She had no way of discerning his expression from behind the mask, but she sensed he was smiling. “Now…How may be of service to you?”

Chuckling, Manon got to her feet and approached him for a handshake. “You are a hard man to find, Frederic.”

Returning the gesture, he said, “Ah, I suppose I try not to leave too much of a trace…Otherwise I would be invading the local wildlife’s ecosystem. Minimal impact is important for accurate research, after all.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Manon responded. “On that note…I was hoping I could speak to you about your research on dragons...”

Though his face was masked, his body language instantly lit up at her question. “A fellow researcher? Oh, marvelous! Come, I can take you to my camp…It will be easier to discuss with references at my disposal.”

Eagerly, she followed him up the trail that led to his campsite. Luckily, the area was well shaded, so they would be in relative comfort as they spoke.

He offered her a seat near his makeshift desk. “Come, sit. There are a great deal of discoveries I have made recently…The Inquisition’s efforts have allowed me to pursue research I’ve never had the opportunity for before!”

Pausing, Manon turned to him. “You’re working with the Inquisition?”

“Indeed. I happened upon the Inquisitor by chance a while back, and she not only assisted me with my lost supplies, but lured a high dragon to this region on my behalf! Oh, it was such a breathtaking creature…”

“She…lured a dragon? Intentionally?”

“Ah, yes. I had hoped to merely study the dragon’s hunting patterns, but unfortunately, she and her group of companions were spotted. They had no choice but to slay the creature. Still, it was an awe-inspiring thing to watch. And analyzing the dragon’s corpse has been positively enlightening.”

“What sort of things did you learn?” Manon asked.

“You see…Many have suspected that dragons could possibly be immune to the taint,” Frederic began, piquing Manon’s interest. “After all, dragon thralls are incredibly rare, and the ones that have been seen have only been adolescents…never high dragons.”

Leaning forward, Manon listened intently.

“Within the Abyssal High Dragon’s corpse, we found several cysts. Upon dissecting these nodes, we discovered the flesh within was blighted. Somehow, these creatures have a natural defense mechanism that allows them to stem the spread of the blight within their own bodies!” He handed her a few sheets of research, speaking with excitement. “Unfortunately, this cannot be done indefinitely, as we have seen through Corypheus’ dragon, but it is still remarkable, don’t you think?”

Manon stared at his research notes with glee. “It is…”

As she looked over the various journals he shared with her, she glanced up and asked, “What about great dragons? Have you researched them at all?”

Though he was in the middle of rifling through his books, at her question, he froze entirely.

“You…” He turned to her quickly. “You have heard of the great ones?!”

“Ah…Bits and pieces,” she admitted, not sure how much was safe to share.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” he exclaimed, shooting from his seat. “Rarely anyone knows of them, and those who have believe them to only be stories.”

“But you don’t?”

“I desperately want to believe they are real…” Frederic said, leaning back with a sigh. “The high dragons are such magnificent creatures…They were believed extinct for centuries, and yet we are lucky enough to live among them today. Why could this not also be true of the great dragons?”

Manon nodded earnestly. “Exactly…”

“Oh, what I would give to see one for myself…”

“You wouldn’t, um…happen to know where they might be, would you? I mean…You’ve studied dragon migration and hunting…If you were to guess where they might be hiding, what would you propose?”

“An interesting question!” he hummed, rubbing his hand on his chin. “Dragons are notable creatures in that they make their homes in vastly different habitats. There are those like the Abyssal who nest in more arid climates, while the Greater Mistral resides in lush jungles, and the Hivernal can be found atop snowy mountains.

“Not to mention that some even make their home in the Deep Roads, though this is much less heard of for a variety of reasons…If I were to hazard a guess as to where the great dragons might be hiding, I would say somewhere far beyond the reaches of civilization, perhaps even beyond the borders of our maps.”

Nodding her head in consideration, Manon looked at the map on the table before them.

“The dragons of old nearly went extinct due to overhunting,” he said sadly, “so it only makes sense that they would naturally avoid our kind. Perhaps the great ones are still regaining their strength somewhere…”

As she looked over the map, Manon tried to determine any location that might plausibly fit his descriptions.

“Assuming they are, in fact, still in Thedas,” Manon said, pointing to the paper, “What would you say in regards to the Sea of Ash or the Tirashan? I rarely hear of anything regarding these regions due to how dangerous they are…”

“Interesting…” he noted, leaning over the desk. “The Sea of Ash is certainly a possibility, as the sulfur lakes deter most adventurers, but the Tirashan…”

Sighing, he let out a chuckle. “Do you know of Serault? The Marquisate that was once brought shame?”

“I…have heard of it, yes.”

“As my title implies, I am originally from there. The town borders the edge of the Tirashan, where a number of strange things are known to happen…While I cannot say for certain whether great dragons lay within, it is most certainly a possibility.”

Exhaling, Manon asked, “What else can you tell me of Serault?”

Frederic turned towards her inquisitively. “Are you intending to _find_ the great dragons? If so, you are fare braver than I,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m…very dedicated to this project,” she said quietly, looking to her feet.

He nodded in understanding. “I see…I can relate to that drive for knowledge. Many have worried for my safety out here, and while the danger is certainly not lost on me, I would face it willingly in order to discover more about these great creatures.”

Turning to her more fully, he continued, “It has been many years since I left my hometown, and from what I have heard, it has changed a great deal since then. There aren’t any specific rumors that come to my mind, but…I believe if you went there, you might find what you are looking for.”

Sighing, Manon rose from her seat. “Thank you, Frederic. You were a great deal of help.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said kindly. “I am always ecstatic to share theories with fellow researchers…And your questions have given me a lot to think about. I will have to think more on this in the meantime.”

\------

Slowly making her way through the Nahashin Marshes, Manon dragged her feet through the muck. Part of her knew that it would have saved time in the long run to return to the Imperial Highway and gradually make her way to Serault that way, but she couldn’t shake what Frederic had told her.

If the great dragons truly were on the far reaches of civilization, then staying to the main roads was a waste of time. For all she knew, one could be slumbering in these very marshes. The Silent Grove had been in an Antivan swamp, after all.

Making her way over to a boulder, she sat down with a heavy sigh.

While she was able to follow that trail of logic, it didn’t change the fact that the terrain was aching to travel through. At the very least, she was fortunate enough to avoid too many lethal creatures.

A raven cawed overhead and she glanced up at it.

Birds were one of the best signs of approaching danger, she’d found, and she’d grown accustomed to paying attention to their calls.

This bird, however, didn’t seem terribly agitated. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, it was flying straight for her.

Abruptly, it landed on a boulder just next to her, cawing in her face insistently.

She blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of what was happening. That was when she noticed the piece of paper tied to its leg.

A message?

Carefully, she reached for the raven’s foot and untied the wrapping. It made another sound before it began preening its feathers.

She eyed the bird for a moment before moving to read the letter.

_Lady Chancellor Manon Tabris,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I am sure by now you are more than aware of the issue currently plaguing Southern Thedas: the Breach. I am uncertain how much you have learned in your travels, but the identity of the one responsible is a darkspawn who goes by the name Corypheus. He claims to be one of the magisters who first entered the Fade long ago. Alongside his armies, he also commands a blighted dragon that some believe to be an Archdemon, though this at least has been proven false._

_I know it has been many years since you were a Warden, but given your heroic deeds during the Fifth Blight and the nature of what we are facing, I had hoped you might be able to help us. If you have any information regarding Corypheus or his allies, it would be greatly appreciated. The Inquisition would gladly compensate you for anything you have to offer._

_Again, I am unsure how much news has reached you on your journey, but in case you were unaware, Corypheus had recently taken advantage of the Wardens across Southern Thedas. By allying with a Nightmare demon, he was able to replicate a false Calling that scared the Wardens into joining his cause. They believed that using his demon army would allow them to destroy the Archdemons and end the Blights for good. And they decided that binding their own to blood magic was the best way to go about this._

_I apologize. This must be quite a shock for you, if you didn’t already know. I can only hope that you weren’t hearing this false Calling…But you can rest easy knowing that the demon responsible is taken care of. The Wardens are free from its grip and have agreed to join the Inquisition’s efforts to make up for what they’ve done._

_Regardless, I wish you the best and hope to hear from you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Inquisitor Rima Lavellan_

Manon stared at the page for a good, long while, trying to process its contents.

She _had_ suspected that something was off…A small whisper in the back of her head whenever she was left alone with her thoughts. Every time it happened though, she convinced herself to ignore it. She’d only been tainted for ten years…there was no way her Calling was happening so soon.

Now that she thought about it more, that noise had stopped a few months ago…Probably around the same time the demon had been defeated. It was a relief to know that it had been nothing after all.

This Corypheus, though…This was new. Frederic had mentioned the name in passing, and Manon knew he was referring to the Elder One that had been so prevalent in the news, but she hadn’t been aware he was a darkspawn. Let alone one of the magisters of old. She recalled the reports Warden-Commander Caron had sent her regarding the Architect, and when combined with Fiona’s encounter with it decades ago, a shiver ran down her spine.

She could only hope it was a coincidence that two intelligent darkspawn had appeared so close to one another. Maker willing, it wasn’t a sign of things to come.

Leaning back against her boulder, she let out a deep sigh. She wasn’t sure how, but despite keeping a low profile, the Inquisition managed to find her. It was probably Frederic if she was being honest. She’d been careful not to give him her name, but they probably determined who she was based on description alone.

And despite being the huge organization that they were with near limitless connections, they still had to search her out?

A gruff groan escaped her. Couldn’t she just find a cure in peace? Hadn’t she given the world enough as it was?

Glaring at the raven, which appeared to be waiting for a reply, she pulled out a quill and paper.

_To Her Worship, Inquisitor Lavellan:_

_I wish that I had helpful information regarding Corypheus, but due to my own limited training during the Blight, I know less of ancient darkspawn lore than do most Wardens. I am engaged in a search of my own. All Grey Wardens who do not fall in battle eventually fall to the Calling, as I’m sure you know. It is a magic that preys upon our own connection to the Blight and the darkspawn. Rather than such foul magic eventually leading to my death, I have determined to find a way to negate this Calling and save all Wardens from its effects._

_Part of me wishes that I could help your Inquisition more personally because the danger of Corypheus and the Breach approaches the threat of even another Blight. Regardless, I have my own path to follow, and I must uncover a cure for the Calling if I wish to see my king ever again. I beg you; keep his kingdom safe until I can return to his side. I would not go through such effort to overcome our Callings only to lose him to this war._

_If in my quest, I find anything that may be of use to you in your fight against Corypheus, I will send it to you immediately. All I ask is that the Inquisition’s knowledge potentially be used to aid my own search in return._

_Yours,_

_Chancellor Manon Tabris of King Alistair_


	6. Rumor Has It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon investigates Serault, hoping to find anything worthwhile.

Serault lay on the very edge of Orlais; the furthest reaches of civilization before one ventured into unknown territories.

Many years ago, the Chantry’s doors had been shut and the region’s name disgraced. The previous Marquis, known only as the Shame of Serault, had been an apostate who ultimately became an abomination, which brought humiliation to the town. However, in recent years, the current Marquis had managed to somewhat renew Serault’s former dignity.

In all of her dealings with Orlais, Manon had rarely dealt with Serault. She knew that it was famous for producing a good portion of the stained glass across Thedas, but beyond that, the marquisate was largely unknown to her.

Nevertheless, she was here on the word of Frederic. And regardless of the validity of his advice, she was ardent in her search for clues.

Unfortunately for her, the townspeople were less than receptive to her questions. Most of them regarded her suspiciously, if they didn’t outright ignore her. She tried not to let it get to her, but she needed to find answers somehow…

For whatever reason, the Inns had refused to serve her. Whether it was because she was an outsider or an elf, she wasn’t sure, but either way, it meant she had to find somewhere else to stay.

Luckily, she’d had plenty of experience finding odd places to sleep during her journey so far, and found a spot for herself in the loft of a barn.

Most of the time, she was able to wake early enough to leave before the farmers came, but in the odd instances where she did oversleep, she’d gotten good at finding opportunities to slip out unseen.

As she found herself snuggling against the hay however, she could hear the barn door creak open.

Holding her breath, she stilled. It was far too late for anyone to be here. She was certain no one had seen her enter, either…

Slowly, she shuffled behind a hay bale and hoped that whoever was here would leave quickly.

“Hello?” a small voice called out. It sounded like a child.

Manon grit her teeth, willing them to leave already. The last thing she needed was a curious youngster blowing her cover.

Her wish was for naught, for tiny footsteps could be heard approaching the ladder, followed shortly by them ascending to her height.

“It’s okay,” the little girl said, climbing onto the loft. “I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

Oh, if only that were true…Manon wasn’t about to let her guard down so easily, though.

After a few minutes of the girl looking around, she thought that the might actually leave, but of course, luck wasn’t on her side.

Climbing on top of the bale Manon was hidden behind, the girl’s head poked over the edge. “Hi.”

Startled, Manon glanced up at the child before letting out a sigh. “Hi…”

The girl tilted her head. “What are you doing here?”

Manon hesitated, unsure what answer would satisfy her enough to leave her be. Eventually, she settled for the truth. “I needed a place to sleep. I’ll be gone by morning.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The girl said nothing after that; she just sat on the hay, swinging her legs back and forth as she stared at Manon.

Tentatively, Manon allowed herself to relax. It didn’t seem like she was going to blow her cover…She was just curious, mostly.

“Hey…” she said after a moment, “No one in the town seems to want to talk to me…Do you know why that might be?”

“Oh…I guess it’s ‘cause we don’t like strangers,” the girl muttered absently. “I don’t see the problem, though. It’s boring talking to the same people over and over. I like it when new people come.”

Manon nodded slowly. She’d figured as much after her first couple of interactions with the locals.

“I don’t suppose you’d be able to answer my questions,” Manon chuckled.

“I know lots of stuff!” the girl declared. “Ask me.”

A giggle escaped Manon. She doubted the young girl had any answers on the politics of the area, but there was always a possibility she’d heard of rumors of the forest.

Leaning forward, Manon asked, “I was wondering if you could tell me about any odd things you’ve heard about the area…Especially anything about the forest.”

“We’re not supposed to go near the forest,” she replied immediately. “Bad stuff happens there. The hunters can go in, but it’s not safe for anyone else.”

“Do you know why?”

The girl glanced down at her feet. “I hear different stories…I’m not supposed to, but I listen anyway. I’ve heard of different monsters that hide in the shadows…and people who practice bad magic.”

“Bad magic?” Manon asked, hoping she might elaborate.

Looking around, the girl whispered, “Blood magic…I heard the people who do it live in the caves.”

“What about dragons?” Manon ventured. “Have you heard anything about them?”

“I’ve never seen one, but…this one time, there was a flock of crows flying over the forest, and they looked like a dragon. Like, all flying together like that. It was creepy.”

“That…is certainly strange…” she muttered, trying to determine why that might have happened.

“Crows do lots of weird things here. I don’t like them.”

Nodding in understanding, Manon said, “I get that.”

The girl looked at her for a moment. “You’re not gonna go in the woods, are you?”

Manon shrugged. “I can’t say for sure. I’m looking for something and it might just be in there.”

“Be careful…” the girl said with a frown. “I don’t like the woods.”

Chuckling, Manon said, “Trust me, I’m not too fond of them, either.”

\------

The following day, Manon tried to make contact with the townspeople once more. However, just as before, most of them either shunned her or evaded her questions.

Leaning against a building, she let out an aggravated sigh. She really wanted to get more confirmation on these rumors before venturing into the woods. While she had a feeling she might find what she was looking for, she really didn’t want to base her entire expedition on the whisperings of a little girl.

In the midst of the contemplation, she noticed someone approaching from the corner of her eye.

Turning to face them, she met eyes with a slender woman, with a blue hood draped over her head. The woman’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “Hi, stranger,” she said, her voice clear and smooth. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

Manon sighed. “A fact that seems to be obvious to everyone.”

The woman laughed. “Oh, don’t be too hard on them. These people live hard lives. Hardly anyone comes out this far, so it’s only natural they’ll be suspicious of newcomers.”

Manon tilted her head curiously. “But not you?”

Grinning, she answered, “Let’s just say I see things most people don’t. And you don’t have the look of someone seeking to rob these people blind.”

“No…that’s the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

“I thought as much,” she said with a smile. “Now, then…How might I assist you?”

Blinking, Manon found herself stunned for a moment. Nearly everyone had brushed her off before…She had only assumed this woman was going to do the same.

“Truthfully, I’m searching for something…And I think it might be hiding in the Tirashan.”

The woman’s brows lifted in interest. “Really?”

“Yes…Would you be able to tell me of anything strange happening in those woods? Anything at all?”

A loud, musical laugh escaped her throat. Placing a hand on her hip, the woman smirked. “Sweetie, I _live_ in those woods. If you’re looking for something, chances are I know about it.”

Manon tried not to let her excitement be too obvious. This was too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

“Have you…heard anything about great dragons?” she asked cautiously.

Her smirk widened. “Why, there’s something you don’t hear about every day…” She leaned against the wall, next to Manon. “And you truly mean ‘great’ dragons, yes? Not the run-of-the-mill high dragons that the common folk yell about?”

Manon allowed herself to chuckle. “Right on the money.”

The woman closed her eyes for a second, her smile fading only somewhat. “Well…I’m no dragon hunter, but I do know the Applewoods like the back of my hand.” She turned to Manon fully, extending her hand in an offer. “If I took you to the spot you’re looking for, how much would you be willing to pay?”

Inhaling sharply, Manon locked eyes with her.

“Name your price.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter and the next have been a thorn in my side...While I was able to come to terms with the fact that the Warden won’t appear in the series again and thus I can have creative freedom with a cure, as I was doing more research, I realized the Tirashan could be covered in more depth at some point...So I’ve been struggling with finding a way to have Manon find a great dragon and feature some of the forest’s creepier elements without contradicting canon too much...


	7. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon’s escort leads her deep into the Tirashan where she discovers something utterly ancient.

“So…Do you have a name?” Manon asked, turning to the woman leading her through the woods.

Grinning, she answered, “The Marquis has a lovely nickname for me. ‘The Dashing Outlaw.’ That should do nicely.”

Manon sighed. “Are you alright if I just shorten it to ‘Outlaw’? The whole thing’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“Sure! So long as you tell me what to call you.”

“’Chancellor’ should suffice,” Manon said blankly.

“Ooh, mysterious!” Outlaw said with a smile. “I like it.”

Turning her attention back to the path, Manon suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. So long as this woman led her to a great dragon, she could put up with this.

They continued walking in silence for a while before Outlaw came to a stop. Glancing up at a tree, she cocked her head. “Looks like you’ve got a friend.”

Following the direction of her gaze, Manon’s eyes landed on a raven perched on a low branch. It was staring straight at her. She suppressed a shudder. The stories of the crows in the area didn’t sit well with her and she could only hope this wasn’t some demon in disguise or something.

The bird cawed once before flitting over to Manon’s shoulder. She jumped at the contact, but relaxed upon seeing the paper tied to its leg.

Ah. That made more sense.

She turned back to her guide and asked, “Could you give me a moment?”

“Sure thing, take your time…” she said with a shrug, walking over to another part of the trail.

Sighing, she opened the parchment and began to read.

_Lady Chancellor Manon Tabris,_

_I greatly appreciate hearing from you, even if you were unable to provide information on Corypheus. After your letter, I took the liberty of reaching out to King Alistair, considering his past with the Wardens, and he graced us with a visit._

_He misses you a great deal. I thought you might like to know that._

_Regardless, allow me to get to the point of this message…I have recently discovered some…disturbing news._

_I’m unsure how much you’ve learned of red lyrium in your travels, but I trust you know that it isn’t good. Until recently, my colleagues and I had varying opinions on it, though for the most part, we simply thought it was a new type of lyrium capable of terrible things. This new discovery has changed that, however._

_A contact of mine was conducting experiments on red lyrium, and learned that in fact, it is blighted lyrium. This was shocking for a number of reasons, but the fact that the blight can only infect living organisms is what concerns me the most. It had previously been believed to be a mineral, but now…I can only hope that it is some sort of magical plant and not…something else._

_In any case, I assumed this would be relevant in your search for a cure. I hope this knowledge is helpful to you._

_Please don’t hesitate to reach out to the Inquisition should you require further assistance._

_Sincerely,_

_Inquisitor Rima Lavellan_   
  


Manon stared at the letter with concern. Lyrium was…alive? And red lyrium had the blight? Running a hand down her face, she groaned. Maker, but this was fucked up.

At the very least, this was incredibly useful information. Though it didn’t assist her in regards to her search for a great dragon, it could potentially aid her research in other areas.

She also found herself drawn to a particular line in the Inquisitor’s report.

_‘He misses you a great deal.’_

Andraste, but she missed him, too. More than words could say. Reaching into her pack, she pulled out the journal that held the rose he’d given her from Lothering. Gently, she ran her fingers over the dried petals, gazing wistfully at the dried flower.

Every day, her chest ached with the weight of her sorrow. She yearned to be by his side once more…to feel his strong arms around her and his warm voice assuring her everything would be okay.

But she had to do this. If she didn’t, their time together would come to an end far too soon. Once this was all over, they would be together again. And they could grow old and grey together without the taint looming over their heads.

Exhaling, she closed her journal. She could do this. She had to.

She made her way further down the trail, finding Outlaw sitting on a rock and looking at her expectantly.

“Well, Chancellor…Did you finish your business with the bird?”

Glaring, she deadpanned, “Yes. I owed him money and couldn’t pay up. I had to shank him to get away.”

Chuckling, the woman stood. “Fine, fine, don’t tell me. You have your secrets. I’m just your escort, after all.”

Thankfully, they walked in relative silence after that. However, Manon couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were being watched from the shadows. Every so often, she’d look over her shoulder, expecting to find something rustling in the bushes, only to find nothing. It was unsettling to say the least.

Eventually, she asked, “So…how far is it to this place you were talking about?”

Outlaw hummed. “Well, I can’t be certain if a great dragon truly slumbers in these woods… _However_ , there is one spot that is highly likely to be a hiding spot for one…And it just so happens to be about a two week journey on foot.”

Great. All the more time to spend with her lovely travelling companion. A sigh escaped her. She shouldn’t complain. This woman was potentially leading her to a cure, after all. She just had to grin and bear it.

\------

It ended up taking longer than two weeks to reach their destination, but by the time they inevitably reached it, Manon was too overjoyed to care. For one thing, the forest had only gotten creepier the further they delved, and regardless of how snarky Outlaw may have been, Manon soon became grateful for her presence.

And now here they stood, at the mouth of a cave; its entrance just barely visible amidst the thick cluster of trees.

“You’re certain this is it?” Manon asked.

“It has to be. There’s nowhere else a beast of that size could stay hidden for so long.”

Sighing, Manon stepped forward. “Alright…Let’s go.”

“Ah-ah…I recall saying I’d lead you here, but I’m no dragon hunter. From here, you’re on your own.”

Looking over her shoulder, Manon glared. She should have expected as much from her, but it still annoyed her.

Extending a hand, Outlaw grinned. “I’ll take my payment now.”

Lifting a condescending brow, Manon stared at her. Sighing, she reached into her bag and pulled out a pouch of coins before handing it over. “Here’s half. You get the rest once I’ve found what I’m looking for.”

The woman’s smile dropped. “Now, that’s not fair…What am I supposed to do if the dragon kills you?”

Turning away, Manon muttered, “Then pull it off my corpse.”

She didn’t bother seeing her expression as she descended into the cave.

As soon as she’d gotten past the entrance, the first thing she noticed was just how dark it was in here. She knew that if she kept going, it would end up being pitch black.

She retreated a bit until she had more access to natural light and got to work manufacturing a torch. Once it was lit, she exhaled slowly before making her way down the path once more.

Truthfully, she had no idea what she was doing here. She was mostly banking on the details of Alistair’s story. He’d made it sound like Yavana had failed to wake the great dragons, which would mean they’d still be slumbering. That was the only way she’d be able to collect its blood without dying. If she ended up finding one here only to find that it wasn’t sleeping after all…Well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

The further she descended into the cave, the more unsettled she became. At first, the walls had appeared relatively ordinary, but the deeper she went, the stranger it became. At times, it felt like the walls were pulsing with movement…Not like the fleshy mounds she’d seen in the Circle or the Deep Roads, but rather…it seemed as if the cavern was oscillating in time with her heartbeat.

Beyond that, she also realized that the walls were…unnaturally clean. The entrance had been normal enough; covered in moss and fungus, but the further she went, the fewer traces of nature she could find. The surfaces were completely and utterly smooth. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why.

She also couldn’t be sure how long it had been since she’d left the surface. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours, but it felt like she’d been down here for days.

After a while, she began to feel a breeze wafting through the cavern. She stopped in confusion. She had to be far underground by now…Even if there were other vents for air, there was no way such a strong breeze would be able to make its way this far down.

As she continued walking, she came to a chilling realization. It wasn’t a breeze at all. Something was breathing.

Her heartrate picked up dramatically and she stopped where she stood.

Could it really be? Had she found one at last?

Then again, knowing her luck, it could just be a regular high dragon and she was walking into its nest completely unprepared.

Oh, well…She’d come this far.

Inhaling deeply, she attempted to gather her nerves before continuing down the path. The wind from the creature’s breathing only grew stronger as she went, and she could soon hear its guttural growls echoing against the walls as well.

 _Please be asleep, please be asleep, please be asleep._ She chanted the mantra to herself repeatedly, hoping that saying it would make it true.

Gradually, the walls surrounding her began to open up, the tunnel greatly expanding in size. Eventually, she found herself staring at a vast cavern, its size so massive she couldn’t even see the ceiling.

Beyond that, though, was the creature resting within. She had seen dragons before. And she had fought an Archdemon. The latter of which had nearly taken up half the roof of Fort Drakon. But this…This was unworldly big.

The great beast had to have been twice the size of the Archdemon, its body nearly taking up the length of the cave. The horns and spikes atop its head could have been mountains in their own right.

There was no denying it. She’d found a great dragon.

Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, she fell to her knees. She’d done it. A creature of legend that had long been believed extinct lay before her.

Tears came to her eyes unbidden and she furiously wiped them away.

She hadn’t won yet…She still had a ways to go before a cure would be in her grasp.

Returning to her feet, she exhaled. As far as she could tell, the dragon was in a deep sleep. And based on what Alistair had said, only a Theirin would be able to wake it. She should be safe.

Still…she had to find a way to collect the blood. Would her weapons be enough to pierce its thick skin?

There was only one way to find out.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the various vials and containers she’d gathered in preparation for this moment. She didn’t think she’d need a lot, but the more she had on hand, the better.

Gradually, she approached the beast, completely overwhelmed by its size. Its front claw was the entire length of her body. Killing her would be as easy as breathing.

But it was asleep. It couldn’t hurt her. Right?

Breathing deeply, she knelt down beside its front foot. She’d probably have an easier time accessing veins from its joints, like near its wrist. She doubted she could reach any of the other vulnerable parts of its body without climbing on top of it and she’d rather avoid that if at all possible.

Glancing up at the dragon in trepidation, she held her dagger in a trembling grip.

Closing her eyes, she plunged the blade into the creature’s skin. She braced for the worst, but after a few seconds, nothing happened. Looking back at the dragon’s face, nothing had changed. It was still breathing steadily, unfazed by her actions.

The skin had barely been nicked anyway. She figured as much. With more gusto, she dug her blade deeper into the dragon’s flesh. Still, it did not move.

After a while of poking and prodding, she eventually managed to break the skin. Blood slowly began to seep from the wound and she quickly got to work collecting it. After a few minutes, she’d managed to fill all of her containers.

She then patched up the injury to the best of her ability. It was such a small wound, it probably wouldn’t take long to heal, but she didn’t want to risk the creature bleeding out in case she needed to return.

Looking over what she’d collected, she could hardly believe her eyes. She’d set out on this journey over a year ago and now…A cure was within her grasp. She could hardly believe it.

With the utmost care, she wrapped each vial and beaker in cloth before returning it to her bag. The last thing she needed was for the glass to break after she’d gone to such trouble to collect the blood.

Once she’d packed it all up, she found herself sitting on the ground, at a bit of a loss.

What now?

Sure, she’d determined that great dragon blood was the key ingredient to a cure, but what was she supposed to _do_ with it? I mean, was she supposed to drink it like Calenhad? Wouldn’t that just make her a Reaver? And if the blood was the key to a cure, then what about Alistair? He already had the blood in his body…

She needed an expert. Someone to help her figure out what to do now. Sure, she could research and collect materials, but when it came to brewing potions and elixirs, she was out of her depth.

_‘Please don’t hesitate to reach out to the Inquisition should you require further assistance.’_

Suddenly, Manon recalled her last letter from the Inquisitor. The Inquisition had resources…far more than even Alistair did as king. If the Inquisitor truly meant what she said…then perhaps she should approach them after all.

Getting to her feet, she sighed.

It was time to pay the Inquisitor a visit.


	8. Midnight Correspondence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at Skyhold in the middle of the night wasn’t Manon’s plan, but she tries to make the best of it.

It took roughly two months for Manon to make her way to Skyhold. During that time, the Inquisitor apparently met Corypheus in a final confrontation and defeated the magister once and for all. It was all anyone could talk about.

Manon found herself grateful for the fact that she’d managed to avoid getting dragged into being the savior of Thedas once more. She could only hope that the Inquisitor hadn’t had her life turned upside down in the same way as her.

The mountain air swept over her, sending a chill straight to her bones. Shivering, she pulled her cloak tighter.

She probably should have set up camp for the night, but given the cold temperature and the fact that she was almost at her destination, she’d decided to press on. Unfortunately, it had taken her longer to arrive than she’d initially planned and it was now the middle of the night. Maker willing, they’d at least let her through the front gates.

She’d seen the stronghold from a distance as she was hiking up the mountains, but now that she was closer, she was taken aback by how utterly massive the castle was. The enormous towers stretched towards the heavens, clawing at the clouds. Its stone walls loomed overhead, the moonlight casting intimidating shadows upon the valley below. It was certainly a sight to behold.

Taking a breath to gather her courage, Manon approached the gate. As threatening at Skyhold might appear, she’d heard relatively good things about the Inquisition during her travels. They accepted refugees and pilgrims alike…Not to mention the Inquisitor herself had specifically reached out to her. She would be welcome here.

That train of thought vanished from her mind, however, as soon as one of the guards called out to her.

“Halt! Identify yourself.”

Manon paused where she stood, directing her attention to the man who spoke. Clearing her throat, she said, “I am Manon Tabris, Hero of Ferelden and Chancellor to King Alistair.”

The guard chuckled. “Right. And I’m the prince of Starkhaven.” His comrades laughed at his comment and Manon bristled. “It’s far too late for visitors to be arriving. And wouldn’t we have received word of such an important guest?”

She glared at them before taking a breath to calm herself. “My apologies, but I’ve been on the road for some while. This is my first time coming to Skyhold.” She paused for a moment, looking them over intently. “I regret not notifying anyone of my arrival ahead of time, but I didn’t anticipate arriving at such a late hour. If you need to confirm who I am, you’re welcome to ask the Inquisitor. I’ve been corresponding with her.”

One of the guards lowered his brows in disapproval while the other two whispered between themselves.

“If you think we’re going to disturb the Inquisitor just to verify your story, you’re sorely mistaken – ”

“But captain,” one of them interrupted. “If it really is her, wouldn’t her Worship want to know?”

He opened his mouth with a retort, but quickly shut it. Turning over his shoulder, he glared at Manon before looking back at the younger guards. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before sighing and approaching the pair. He spoke too quietly for Manon to hear, but soon enough, one of the guards was dashing off towards the castle.

Looking at her seriously, the captain uttered, “No funny business. Understood?”

Sighing, Manon replied, “Of course.”

It was roughly ten minutes before anyone else emerged from the structure. Focusing on the upper courtyard, Manon noticed two individuals descending the staircase.

As they got closer, she was able to make out more details. One was a dark-skinned woman with wavy black hair, while the other a tall man with curly blonde locks. Their hair was wild and unkempt and it was obvious they’d been recently roused from sleep.

Manon could only assume the woman was the Inquisitor, but then who was the man? Her bodyguard, perhaps?

The two eventually approached the gate, both bearing serious expressions. The Inquisitor had a robe wrapped tightly around her torso and it was clear she was unhappy to be here. Her pale green eyes were icy in their observation; her gaze locked onto Manon the entire way.

“I’m told you’re someone I want to meet,” she asserted smoothly, though Manon didn’t dare mistake her tone for friendliness.

“I apologize for disturbing your rest, my lady,” Manon said with a dip of her head. “Your guards were quite diligent in protecting your fortress and didn’t take my word for who I am…Understandably so.” She gave a wry smile.

“…I had hoped to arrive at a more reasonable hour, but given the cold, I thought it would be better if I press on and make my way here as soon as possible…”

The Inquisitor gave a measured sigh. “I see.” She was silent for a few moments, intently looking Manon over. “So if you are who you say you are, you won’t have any trouble answering a few questions, will you?”

“Of course not.”

Taking a few steps towards Manon, the Inquisitor spoke. “In my last message to you, what information did I reveal?”

“The truth about red lyrium.”

“Which is?”

“It’s blighted.”

She nodded subtly. “And in your first response to me, what did you ask of me?”

“I asked that you protect my king and his kingdom.”

The Inquisitor stared at her for a few moments more before her expression softened and her lips curved into a small smile. Turning to the guards, she said, “It’s her. Let her in.”

“Your Worship!” they said in unison, saluting before moving to raise the gate.

The look on the Inquisitor’s face had transitioned to one of genuine warmth and she looked at Manon kindly. “I apologize for that. But you have to admit it’s a bit suspicious, arriving the way you did without any warning…”

Manon winced. “Again, I’m sorry…I’ve been so used to keeping a low profile that I suppose I was a bit paranoid…”

“It’s all right,” she said. “Come on in, you must be freezing…”

Manon followed readily, adjusting her cloak as she walked.

“I wish we’d known you were coming…we could have prepared the proper accommodations for you,” Rima said as she walked. “Josie’s asleep, but I’m sure we have empty rooms…I should be able to find a key in her office.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to go to the trouble!” Manon insisted. “Trust me, I’ve been sleeping in pretty odd places the last year or so…I can always pitch my tent in the courtyard…Or I could stay in the barn.”

Giggling, the Inquisitor turned to the man beside her. “I’m not sure Blackwall would be all that keen on having a roommate.”

Puzzled, Manon wasn’t sure who ‘Blackwall’ was supposed to be, but she didn’t pay it too much mind. It was probably an inside joke between the two of them.

Speaking of which, the blonde man still hadn’t uttered a word since he’d arrived. He just followed Rima around compliantly, a sullen expression on his face.

She followed the two into the Keep, taking a moment to marvel at the grandeur of the space. It was somewhat hard to see with the limited candlelight, but even so, she could tell the architecture was impressive.

The Inquisitor, however, didn’t pause for a second. As if on autopilot, she made her way to the second door on the left, disappearing down a hallway. Her supposed bodyguard remained outside the door, and Manon hesitated, unsure if she was supposed to follow. Soon enough, she reappeared, a victorious expression on her face and a key grasped firmly in her hand.

“Got one!” she said with a grin. “It’s not one of our better rooms, but it should do in the meantime.”

“I keep telling you,” Manon said with a frown, “I really don’t need anything fancy.”

“Nonsense!” Rima declared. “You’re the Hero of Ferelden! If anyone deserves nice things, it’s you.”

Sighing, Manon decided not to argue with her. She was far too tired for that right now.

Heading to the rear of the great hall, Rima led them through another door, leading to a winding set of stairs. They climbed the staircase for a good while before stopping in front of another door.

“This should be it…” The Inquisitor muttered to herself, trying the key. Sure enough, with a click, it opened.

“And here we are,” she said with a grin, handing the key to Manon before gesturing to the room. “Like I said, it could be nicer, but it should hold you for the night…I’m sure our ambassador can work out something more suitable in the morning…”

Manon exhaled slowly, shaking her head before allowing herself to smile. “This is lovely…thank you.”

“It’s no trouble,” Rima replied kindly. “There should be a clean set of nightclothes in the dresser…And breakfast is served fairly late, so don’t worry about sleeping in. I’m sure you need the rest. Once you’re all settled, feel free to meet with my advisors and I.”

Dipping her head in acknowledgement, Manon’s smile widened. “Thank you. Truly.”

Rima gave a slight bow in response. “Sleep well. We’ll see you in the morning.”

The man gave a curt nod; the only real interaction he’d had with Manon, before following the Inquisitor further up the stairs.

Manon watched them go with curiosity before shutting the door to her new room. She quickly locked it before turning to take in the space.

It was definitely nicer than any of the inns she’d stayed at over the last year and a half. In fact, it reminded her a great deal of the guest rooms they had at the palace in Denerim.

Gently, she ran her fingers across the bedspread before sitting upon its plush surface.

She didn’t have to push the bed against the door to feel secure. She didn’t need to keep a dagger under her pillow. She was safe here.

Tears welled in her eyes at the realization.

It had been so long since she’d been around people she could trust. And while she didn’t truly know the Inquisitor, it was clear she was a kind, caring woman. She was going to help her.

By the Maker, this was truly happening. She’d found the blood of the great dragons, and now…Now she was going to make a cure. It was almost over.

Sniffling, she hugged her knees to her chest.

Soon, she’d be with Alistair once more…and this time, it would be for good.


	9. A Breath of Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During her first day at Skyhold, Manon meets a few of its denizens.

The sun had long since risen by the time Manon awoke the next morning. Lazily, she blinked open her eyes as the sun filtered onto her face.

With a yawn, she stretched dramatically, her toes curling as she did so.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. Scratching her cheek, she glanced down at herself. The nightclothes provided for her had been infinitely more comfortable than anything she’d worn in the past year. The soft cotton was positively divine in comparison to her garments.

Speaking of which, she didn’t exactly have something decent to wear down to breakfast…The dresser in her room only held pajamas, and it wasn’t exactly proper to wear those in decent company. However, going down in full armor felt like overkill. Shrugging, she figured she’d have to settle for the gambeson and breaches she wore beneath her armor. It was the only middle ground option she had.

Eventually, she managed to pull herself out of bed and dress herself before heading down to the main hall.

As she neared the bottom of the staircase, she immediately sensed the change in atmosphere from the night prior. The muffled din of conversation could be heard through the wooden door, along with the clanging of silverware.

Upon opening the door, the noise increased greatly; a warm sense of life filling the space. Dozens of people, members of the Inquisition and dignitaries alike, sat upon the benches enjoying breakfast or conversing with one another. The animated environment easily welcomed Manon into the fray.

Approaching one of the banquet tables, she began loading up her tray with a steaming bowl of porridge, some scrambled eggs, and a few thick slices of bacon. Inhaling deeply, she sighed and felt her stomach growl.

_Maker, real food…_

She was practically salivating by the time she found a chair and eagerly began digging in.

It wasn’t long before her solitude was interrupted, however.

While she was in the midst of chewing on a piece of bacon, another elf sat down beside her. “Howzit goin’? You’re new here, yeah?”

Manon glanced up from her meal to look at the newcomer. Her short, messy blonde hair looked as though she had haphazardly taken a pair of shears to it. Her clothes were garish and mismatched and were more patched up than an old doll. And her smile was utterly charming.

Swallowing her bite, Manon nodded. “Yeah, I just got here last night.”

The elf grinned. “We do good things here. You look like good people, I bet.”

Manon laughed self-consciously at that. “I mean…I’d like to hope that I am…”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Eh. Only good people say they ain’t good. You’re probably fine.” Squinting, she paused and looked her over more closely. “Wait a second…I know you…”

Looking down at herself in uncertainty, Manon asked, “Oh… You do?”

The woman was quiet for a few more moments before her face lit up and she slammed her hand down on the table. “I got it! The king’s helper! You’re her, right? From Denerim?”

Manon blinked rapidly, somewhat stunned by her outburst. “Um…yes…How did you know?”

Smiling widely, she answered, “My friends talk all about you. You help little people. Just like us.” Extending her hand for a handshake, she added, “I’m Sera. With the friends of Red Jenny.”

Recognition dawned on Manon, her eyebrows rising as she returned the handshake. “I’ve heard of your organization…Though most of the nobles don’t have good things to say about you, unfortunately.”

“Pfft…‘Course they don’t. We’re all about knocking ‘em down a peg or two. Can’t be too happy ‘bout that, can they?”

Giggling, Manon shook her head. “No, I suppose not.”

With a grin, Sera continued, “The servants like you, though. Which means I like you, too. Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” Manon said with a chuckle.

“So, _Lady Chancellor_ ,” Sera hummed, leaning in conspiratorially, “What brings you to the Inquisition?”

“The Inquisitor offered to help me with something,” she answered. “I suppose I’ll be meeting with her after I finish breakfast.”

“Oh! I’ll go tell her! I’ll bet she’s all muddled thinkin’ how she’s gonna impress you,” Sera snickered, shooting out of her seat before Manon had a chance to say anything more. Chuckling to herself, she resumed her breakfast, though she had a feeling the Inquisitor would now be expecting her sooner rather than later.

After she’d finished eating, she rose from her seat and began admiring the architecture that she’d been unable to make out in the dark last night.

As she found herself staring at the throne, a scout in Inquisition armor approached her.

“Excuse me, messere. A message for you.”

She turned to him and he gave a small bow. “The Inquisitor and her advisors request your presence in the war room. It’s just through that door and past the ambassador’s office,” he said, pointing out the door in question.

Manon gave him a grateful nod. “Thank you. I’ll be there shortly.”

Following the scout’s instructions, she made her way to the war room in no time. She stared at the large oak doors for a few moments, attempting to calm her nerves, before pushing them open.

Four heads looked up to greet her upon her arrival. She easily spotted the Inquisitor, and…though it took her a second to identify him, it seemed the man from last night was here as well. His hair was much more organized and his apparel was drastically different, but sure enough, it was him. She failed to recognize the other two, however.

An Antivan woman donning blue and gold silks stood beside a slightly older woman with cropped red hair and calculating eyes. She felt as if she might have seen them somewhere before, but couldn’t quite place it.

Rima was the first to welcome her.

“Lady Chancellor!” she exclaimed with a smile, running over to meet Manon. “I’m glad you were able to come. I trust you slept well?”

“Manon is fine, thank you,” she said with a polite nod. “And yes, thank you. That bed was incredibly comfortable. And please give my compliments to your cook. Breakfast was delicious.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” the red-headed woman said with a clipped Orlesian accent.

“Oh!” Rima said, “Allow me to introduce everyone…” She gestured towards the Orlesian woman. “This is Leliana, former left hand to the Divine, and our current spymaster.”

“It is a pleasure to meet the Hero of Ferelden in person,” she said with a slight curtsy.

Manon returned the gesture with a bow. “The pleasure is all mine…I’ve never had the honor of meeting with Divine Justinia, but I know she was a wonderful woman. To know that you served her speaks a great deal of your character.”

Some unnamed emotion passes over Leliana’s eyes before she carefully masks it, smiling passively.

“Next is our ambassador, Lady Josephine Montiliyet,” Rima continued, indicating the Antivan woman.

Recognition dawned on Manon and her face lit up. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere! You’ve visited the palace in Denerim before, yes?”

“Indeed!” Josephine answered with a bright grin. “It’s such a lovely city, and made all the more welcoming by your king, of course.”

Manon tried not to get too caught up in the mention of Alistair, but felt herself pausing even so. She could tell the spymaster was watching her keenly and did her best to school her reactions.

“And last but not least,” said Rima, “is the commander of our forces, Cullen Rutherford.”

The man in question rubbed the back of his head, letting out a gruff sigh. “Yes, um…Nice to meet you,” he said, not quite looking her in the eye.

“And you as well,” Manon said with a dip of her head.

He was acting oddly skittish…She couldn’t quite figure out why, but decided not to dwell on it for now.

Knowing his position also put the previous night’s events into a new light of clarity. If he was their commander, it would make sense that he’d want to investigate a potential intruder…though that didn’t quite explain why he’d continued following the Inquisitor even after the fact…

“So!” Rima said, pulling Manon from her thoughts. “I believe I know the reason why you’re here, but just for prosperity, would you like to tell us?”

“Yes, of course…” Manon said quietly. She approached the war table, clearing her throat. “As you well know, the Wardens face something known as the Calling when they’ve been tainted for a long time. For the last year or so, I’ve been seeking to find a cure for this Calling.”

“Your previous letter indicated you found a lead,” Leliana noted. “Since you are here, I trust that means you are on the right track?”

“I am,” she confirmed with a nod. “It took a great deal of research and investigation, but I believe I’ve figured out at least the primary ingredient. Great dragon’s blood.”

Both Josephine’s and Rima’s eyes went wide. “Great dragons?” the ambassador asked incredulously. “Aren’t they just a myth?”

“Evidently not,” Manon answered. Carefully, she reached into her pack and pulled out one of the vials of blood. “Seeing as how I managed to find one.”

This time, Cullen was the one to interject. “Maker’s breath,” he said in mild awe. “You managed to kill one of those things?”

“Oh, Maker, no,” Manon said with a wave of her hand. “I wouldn’t even stand a chance against a high dragon by myself…No, it was in a sort of…magical slumber. There’s no way it would have been able to wake up.”

“Fascinating…” Leliana noted. “How could you be so sure of this, though? It could have just been napping for all you knew.”

Manon hesitated, unsure how much information she ought to reveal. “It’s…complicated,” she eventually settled on. “I can go over the whole story later, if you need, but for now, just now that I’m telling the truth.”

The spymaster tilted her head in consideration, not saying anything more on the topic.

“So…you have the great dragon’s blood…” Rima commented, “but you’re not sure what to do now? I assume if it were as simple as drinking it, you wouldn’t need our help…”

“Exactly…I figured that the Inquisition would have a variety of experts at its disposal, and I had hoped I could use your assistance.” Bending at the waist, she gave a low, humble bow. “If you can help me with this, I will be forever in your debt.”

“Please, there’s no need to bow…” the Inquisitor said, pulling Manon back to a standing position. Smiling kindly at her, she added, “It would be our honor to help you. And I know just the person who’d be perfect for the job.”

At Manon’s expectant look, she continued, “Our arcanist, Dagna, is a brilliant mind. She works down in the Undercroft. She’d definitely be the first person to go to.”

“Thank you,” Manon said gratefully. “I will.”

“In the meantime, we can look into other potential outlets using our connections,” Josephine added. “I can be discreet, of course, but it can’t hurt to reach out to find more information.”

Manon smiled. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you. All of you.”

She turned to each of them, her heart warmed by their generosity. Ever since the Blight, it had felt like she’d been clawing her way to victory. Even after defeating the Archdemon, every day as an uphill battle for respect amongst the nobility. To know that the Inquisition was going out of its way to help her…it was almost too good to be true.

At the mention of connections, another thought popped into Manon’s mind.

“Ah…while we’re on the topic of it…” she added, “There was someone I was hoping to find. I haven’t seen her since before the whole Mage-Templar war broke out and I wanted to reconnect with her at some point.”

“Oh! Who is it?” the ambassador asked. “It shouldn’t be too hard to track her down.”

“Grand Enchanter Fiona. She’s the one who helped me find the right lead, and among other reasons, I’d really like to thank her for all that she’s done for me.”

At the mention of her name, the room went quiet. Rima’s face went pale and she sharply glanced down at the table.

A grim sense of unease gripped Manon. “What is it…?” she asked quietly, dreading the answer.

“Unfortunately,” Leliana said delicately, “the Grand Enchanter passed many months ago.”

Manon’s world came to a crumbling halt.

“What?”

The word came out in a soft breath, her confusion wafting into the air.

How? She…It hadn’t been that long, had it? She was doing so well…And even though there was the war, she’d thought…She was supposed to be safe, wasn’t she? Alistair…Alistair was supposed to meet his mother! She’d learned the truth, but now…Now what? Was it all for naught?

“It was my fault,” Rima said quietly, still not looking up. “I killed her.”

“It’s not your fault the rebel mages sold themselves to the Venatori,” Cullen said, only to be cut off by her.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m the one who did it!” Rima shouted, glaring at him. “She was right there in front of me…I tried to talk her down, but…” Biting her lip, she turned away sharply. “She wouldn’t listen. I had to…”

He put a hand on her shoulder in comfort, closing his eyes in seemingly shared grief.

Manon was too shocked for words.

She didn’t blame Rima, obviously. The young woman had been in an impossible situation, and without being there herself, Manon had no right to judge. She just couldn’t understand why Fiona would have put herself in that position to begin with. The rebel mages must have been truly desperate to ally themselves with the Tevinter cultists…

Sighing, she did her best to focus on the present.

“I…I see…” she said softly, looking to the table. “I suppose I won’t be needing to contact her, then,” she added with a sardonic chuckle.

She could feel the concerned gazes focused on her, but ignored them.

“It’s not important anyway…” she lied, forcing a smile. “The arcanist, right? Thank you. I’ll go see her now.”

She left the war room before anyone could say anything else.


	10. At Long Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dagna and Manon work together tirelessly to find a cure.

Manon quickly made her way to the Undercroft, though as she descended the staircase, she gradually slowed to a halt. Leaning against the stone wall, she gripped her side, letting out a harsh exhale.

Fiona was dead.

She couldn’t believe it…and yet, it was true. Why? Why had it happened this way? She’d managed to learn some good news about Alistair’s family…something he would no doubt be ecstatic to know, and now…now his long-lost mother was gone. If only she hadn’t been so paranoid about contacting him…Maybe then she could have sent a message and he would have been able to meet her before she died…But then again, maybe one of her enemies would have tracked her down and she wouldn’t be standing here, so close to finding a cure.

The uncertainty of what she should or shouldn’t have done frustrated her to no end. She knew it was pointless worrying about “what-ifs”, but she couldn’t help but wonder if things could have been different.

Slowly, she let out a deep sigh. She would just have to tell Alistair once this was all over…

Refocusing herself, she resumed her descent down the staircase, holding onto the rail for support.

As she neared the bottom, the roaring sound of a waterfall began making itself known, echoing up the space. Upon opening the door at the bottom, the noise greatly increased in volume, flooding her senses.

Manon looked around for the arcanist the Inquisitor had mentioned. In retrospect, she probably should have asked what the woman looked like, but in her defense, she’d been too frazzled by the news of Fiona to stay a moment longer.

Luckily, there were only two people present in the Undercroft at the moment and she had a feeling the dwarven woman was the more likely candidate of the two.

Approaching her cautiously, she said, “Um…hello…Are you arcanist Dagna?”

The small woman glanced up from what she’d been working on, a bright smile on her face. “I certainly am! What can I do you for?”

Sighing with relief, Manon allowed herself to relax. She needed to stop worrying so much. This woman was likely going to help her find a cure. She should be excited.

“I have a project I’m working on…The Inquisitor said you might be able to help me?”

“Ooh, I love the sound of that!” Dagna said excitedly. “Hold on, let me put this away and then we can talk…”

She shuffled around her workspace a bit, moving tools and runes around before her desk was sufficiently cleared. Giving Manon her full attention, she said, “Okay, shoot.”

Manon glanced warily over at the man currently hammering at what looked like a piece of armor. She assumed that Rima considered her people trustworthy, but she still wasn’t certain if she should be discussing such sensitive information in his company.

Dagna piped in before she could say anything. “Oh, don’t worry about Harritt. He’s harmless,” she said with a grin. “He usually ignores me, anyway.”

The man replied with a grunt, not bothering to turn in their direction.

It wasn’t the most comforting thing she could have said, but it would have to do. Sighing, Manon returned her attention to Dagna.

“I assume you know about the taint that affects the Grey Wardens…I’m currently searching for a cure for this.”

At her words, the dwarf’s eyes went wide. “Woah…no kidding? That’s an impressive goal, there…The taint is something we’ve been trying to understand for centuries now…Though Orzammar is more concerned about the effects of the darkspawn rather than _why_ they exist…Interestingly enough, the blight seems to resonate its own kind of magic. Did you know that? Some scholars have different theories on what causes this, though because most of them only have evidence of this during a blight, their research material is limited…”

It seemed like she might continue for a long while if not interrupted, so Manon ultimately cut in. “I, um…I’ve actually been doing some research for the past year or so. And I believe that great dragon’s blood is the prime ingredient required.”

If possible, Dagna’s eyes widened even further. “You’re kidding. Great dragons? That’s certainly thinking outside the box! But where on Thedas would you even find one? I mean, high dragons aren’t _that_ elusive, but no one’s even _heard_ of great dragons in centuries! Where would they even –”

Breaking off her rambling, Manon held up one of her vials of dragon blood.

Dagna paused comically, staring slack-jawed at the container. “No.” She let out a laugh of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you actually found one?”

Manon chuckled. “It certainly wasn’t easy…But I have a decent amount of it for whatever we need to use it for.”

“By the Stone, that’s incredible!” Dagna grinned. “I mean…think of all the potential experiments it could be used for! Dragon blood is already weird enough on its own…but from something that ancient?”

“I’m…a bit more concerned about just stopping the taint, for now.”

“Right. Of course,” Dagna said with a self-conscious laugh. “You’re probably a Warden, yourself, right? This has got to be important to you.”

Manon didn’t say anything to that, just gazed as the ground in contemplation.

At her silence, Dagna paused for a moment, looking at her more closely. “Wait a second…You aren’t…” A spark of recognition flashed in her eyes and she gasped loudly, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh, Ancestors, you are!”

Blinking at her in shock, Manon had a feeling she knew where this was going, but remained silent even so.

“You’re the Hero of Ferelden…” she breathed, staring at her in awe.

Not saying anything in response, Manon merely allowed her mouth to curl into a wry smile.

Dagna shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it…After all this time, I finally get to meet you again.”

“I…I’m sorry,” Manon said with regret, “but I’m not sure I recognize you…”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” Dagna acceded. “It was a decade ago, and you probably helped lots of people back then…”

Looking at her brightly, her smile stretched from ear to ear. “You saved me. I was just a girl in the Smith Caste, but I wanted to study _magic_. And you…you _helped_ me,” she said warmly. “With your recommendation, I was able to study at the Kinloch Circle, and that just opened so many doors for me. I’ve learned so much since then.”

Awareness suddenly dawned on Manon then and her face lit up. “Oh, Maker! Yes, I remember you!” She eagerly reached forward to grasp her hand in a handshake. “I’m so glad things worked out for you!”

“Oh, please,” Dagna said, her cheeks turning pink. “You’re making me blush.”

Growing embarrassed herself, Manon soon released her hand and took a step back, clearing her throat.

“Gosh, this has got to be fate or something,” Dagna said with wonder. “You helped me all those years back and now…” Looking to her earnestly, she added, “Now _I_ get to help _you_.”

Smiling, Manon exhaled softly. “I guess so.”

Her grin widening, Dagna dashed over to her work station. “C’mon, let me see your notes. We’ve got work to do!”

\------

Months passed as the two of them worked. Dagna proposed a variety of different theories, and with each one, they would run a batch of experiments. They tested any potential cures on blighted organisms, but thus far, none of their attempts had been overly successful.

“Okay…” Dagna said, scratching her head as she stared at her notes. “So the Inquisitor recently discovered something that has…interesting implications…”

Manon looked up from her notepad in curiosity. “Go on…”

“So, uh…Gosh, I’m still kind of processing this, but, um…While she was exploring the Deep Roads, she found out that lyrium is…the blood of titans? They’re like…mountains big, and…they might _be_ the Stone?” She gave a nervous laugh. “I think I might have even connected with one…or something, a while back…It just…felt way too similar to everything she described…”

Blinking at her in confusion, Manon said, “I, um…I think I need you to elaborate…”

“Oh, right! Sorry!” she laughed. “It’s all pretty complicated…I’m still trying to sort it out myself, but what I’m getting at is the titan blood thing.” She leaned forward onto the table, resting her cheek on her hand. “Mages get their power from lyrium, given its ties to the Fade…and our resistance to it is what keeps dwarves from dreaming, but that’s a whole other tangent…Point is, mages use lyrium to enhance their magic. They use it for the Harrowings or for any particularly strenuous spells…Now, if a mage is super desperate, they can also get power from blood magic…”

Manon’s expression darkened at that. She’d never been a fan of blood magic.

“Honestly, it makes a lot more sense now,” Dagna continued. “Knowing that lyrium is titan blood, I mean…When you look at it, all mages who use lyrium are using _some_ form of blood magic, right?”

Her eyebrows rising in realization, Manon paused. That…did make sense when she put it that way.

“And on top of that, there’s the fact you discovered about great dragon blood…And this here…” She pointed to Manon’s notes from earlier in her journey. “’The blood of the dragons is the blood of the world.’ I just can’t get that phrase out of my head…It _has_ to mean something…It’s probably something super ancient, but like…you see where I’m getting at, right? Blood is important. It has ties to magic, regardless of its origin.”

“That…does seem to be a recurring theme…” Manon muttered slowly, deep in thought. She recalled Warden Caron’s reports on the Architect following the Fifth Blight. The creature was apparently using Grey Warden blood in an attempt to awaken darkspawn and grant them sentience. Yet again, that followed the theme of blood and magic.

“Does that give you any new ideas?” Manon prompted, turning her attention to Dagna.

Scratching her chin, she answered tentatively, “Hm…I’m not too sure right now…But it’s opened my eyes to a lot of new things. Especially when it comes to lyrium and its link to the Fade…It’s like I can see pieces of the puzzle but they’re not quite coming together just yet.”

Rolling her neck, Manon sighed, “I guess we’ve just gotta keep at it, then.”

\------

Weeks continued to pass. While it didn’t feel like they were making much progress, Manon couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Every new discovery was a step forward and helped narrow down their options. She couldn’t help but feel like they were just…so close. They just needed a kick in the right direction.

She continued ambling around Skyhold, which was now more than familiar to her, making her way to the library. She’d already pored over their books multiple times, but perhaps she was just missing something…

As she entered the rotunda, she paused for a moment, her eyes drawn to the various murals lining the walls. This wasn’t the first time she’d admired them, but whenever she came in here, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the unfinished fresco. It was clear that the artwork depicted the Inquisitor’s story, so then why was this last piece unfinished? She’d already defeated Corypheus, after all…

The door leading to the battlements opened then and Manon glanced in its direction to find the Inquisitor entering the room. She looked up in surprise, clearly not expecting anyone to be in here, before attempting to mask it. “Oh! Good to see you, Manon. How are things going with Dagna?”

Manon let out a sigh. “They could be better…I feel like we’re slowly making progress, but it would be nice to have something a bit more tangible…”

Rima looked at her sympathetically. “I understand…I hope you two manage to find something soon.”

Approaching Manon, her gaze followed the frescos, landing upon the unfinished one Manon had been staring at a minute ago.

“These are beautiful,” Manon uttered. “Who painted them?”

Rima tensed somewhat, before letting out a deep breath. “An…old friend of mine. He left after the final battle, and I still have no idea why…”

Her brows were drawn together, her expression intense as she stared at the unfinished painting. A few moments passed before she let out a soft sigh and allowed a smile to form on her face.

“Enough about that, though…The others are planning a game of Wicked Grace tonight. Would you care to join us?”

Before Manon could open her mouth to answer, one of the doors slammed open, Dagna rushing in in a hurry.

“Inqusitor!” she cried in excitement. “Have you seen–?” Her eyes fell on Manon then, and her expression brightened significantly. “Oh, good! You’re here!”

Both of the elven women looked at the dwarf in surprise, glancing at one another before back at her.

“Are you all right, Dagna?” Rima asked, reaching out to her.

“I’m more than all right!” she exclaimed, panting heavily. She must have run here to be as out of breath as she was.

“Manon…” she said urgently, walking up to her and pulling out a small cage from behind her back. “Look at this.”

Inside the enclosure sat a little mouse, its nose twitching as it scratched its ear.

“It…looks like a mouse?” Manon asked with confusion.

“Exactly!” Dagna said, her grin stretching ever wider. “A normal, living, breathing mouse.”

She stared at the creature for a few more moments before the understanding hit Manon with the force of a tidal wave. She practically fell to the floor in shock.

“You…you mean…?” she asked in awe, tears pricking her eyes.

“Yes…” Dagna replied softly, her expression warm and tender. “It worked.”

Full tears came to Manon then and she collapsed to her knees, holding her face in her hands.

A cure. A real, honest to goodness cure.

She could hardly believe it.

She was going home.


	11. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all this time, Manon finally returns home to the love of her life.

Approximately two more weeks passed before Manon actually got to go home. Just to be on the safe side, Dagna had wanted her to test the cure to verify that it would work just as well on people as it did on mice. She’d taken a sample of her blood before administering the cure and planned to compare it to a later sample after giving the potion time to take effect.

Manon sat not so patiently in the Undercroft, her knee bouncing up and down erratically as Dagna analyzed her blood.

She hadn’t _felt_ any different in the last few weeks, but then again, it wasn’t as if she felt particularly different most of the time. It had been ages since she’d been around darkspawn, and aside from that false Calling she’d vaguely felt a few months back, she could barely remember what it felt like to even _be_ a Warden. If need be, she supposed they could go searching for darkspawn and see if her Warden senses started acting up, but she’d rather avoid that if at all possible.

Dagna was focused intently on her microscope, analyzing the samples meticulously. Manon was appreciative of everything the dwarf had done for her, but she couldn’t help feeling antsy. She needed to know if this worked, already…

Eventually, Dagna pushed away from her desk with a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples.

“Well?” Manon asked with anticipation.

Stretching her arms, Dagna answered, “It’s difficult to say for certain, since it’s harder to see the difference in something as small as blood, but…” Wearily, she smiled. “There’s enough of a change since the last time that I think the taint should be gone from your system in a month or two.”

Manon could swear she felt her heart skip a beat. “You’re…you’re serious?”

Chuckling, Dagna nodded. “No jokes here. I’d say it worked.”

Letting out a squeal of excitement, Manon leapt from her seat and embraced the dwarven woman in a tight hug. “Oh, thank you, Dagna! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

With a laugh, Dagna returned the embrace. “You’re more than welcome. Honestly, I’m still amazed we managed to get to this point at all…”

Manon pulled back a fraction, tears in her eyes as she addressed her. “You’re a saint, Dagna. I will be forever grateful to you for this.”

“Aw, shucks…” Dagna said, her face heating up.

Letting her go, Manon wiped away her tears with a smile. “I can’t believe it…” she said softly.

“Now that we know for certain that it works, I can make an extra batch for your _special someone_ ,” she said with a smirk.

Blushing, Manon turned away, though internally, she was shrieking with joy. Not only was she on the path to being cured, but soon Alistair would be, as well. She couldn’t wait to see him again.

“It should only take me a day or so to have more prepared...” Dagna continued. “In the meantime, how about you go break the good news to the Inquisitor?”

“I will,” Manon said with a nod. “Thank you. Again.”

She hurriedly made her way up the stairs, a spring in her step and a wide grin on her face. She’d done it. She’d really done it.

\------

It took roughly a day for Dagna to prepare more of the elixir and during that time, Manon said her goodbyes to the people she’d met at Skyhold.

The Inquisitor and her advisors stood near the gates of the Keep, there to see her off.

“Please don’t hesitate to write,” Rima told her earnestly, grasping her hands in her own. “I’d love to hear how you and King Alistair are doing.”

“I will,” Manon said with a smile. “This has been…such a wild adventure, and I couldn’t have done it without your help. Know that you’ll definitely be invited back to the palace sometime in the future.”

Rima gave a self-conscious chuckle. “The king said the same thing, back when he visited…”

Manon laughed. “See? Great minds think alike.”

Cullen smiled good-naturedly next to Rima, leaning down to mutter, “I told you they’d invite you.”

The Inquisitor’s face slowly grew scarlet, causing Manon to giggle.

“And of course you’ll be invited as well, Commander,” Manon added with a smirk.

His smile dropped then and it was Rima’s turn to laugh. “Looks like I won’t be suffering alone,” she said under her breath, to which he rolled his eyes.

Another chuckle escaped Manon as she smiled at the pair. She’d discovered their relationship relatively early into her stay (they were terrible at hiding it), and thought the two were utterly adorable. She knew Alistair would have fun teasing them, as well.

“Well…” she said eventually, giving Skyhold one last look. “I suppose I should be off, then.”

“Take care,” Rima said, pulling Manon into a hug. “I’m so happy for you…”

“Thank you,” Manon murmured. She squeezed her tight before ultimately letting go and getting into the carriage.

As she watched Skyhold slowly disappear behind the mountain, she let out a deep, contented sigh. It had been a long journey, but she could finally rest.

\------

Roughly a week later, the Inquisition’s carriage pulled into the streets of Denerim and a wave of relief washed over Manon.

Maker, but she had missed this city.

Seeing the bustling activity outside of her window warmed her heart. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

It wasn’t long before they inevitably ended up at the palace gates. Manon could hear one of the guards conversing with the driver. Whatever he said must have managed to convince the guard to open the gates for them and soon enough, they were driving inside.

They gradually came to a stop and an Inquisition soldier came around to open Manon’s door for her. She gave him a grateful nod before carefully stepping from the vehicle.

Readjusting her pack, she took a deep breath before making her way to the front doors.

The guards stationed there looked her over curiously before expressions of shock appeared on their faces.

“L-Lady Chancellor…” one of them stammered. “You’ve returned?”

“I have,” she said with a kind smile. “Now, if you don’t mind…I would very much like to see my king.”

“Of…of course. Right away, my lady…”

They opened the doors for her and she nodded to them in acknowledgement as she passed.

As she approached the throne room, her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She’d never been so nervous to see Alistair before, but it had been nearly two years since she’d last seen him. She was more than anxious to be in his arms once more.

Luckily for her, he was sitting on his throne, lazily listening to the grievances of a noble.

She entered the room quietly, standing in the shadows as she waited for an opportunity.

Thankfully, the visiting noble didn’t take too much longer. Alistair dismissed him with a wave of his hand, letting out a yawn as he leaned his cheek on his hand.

She chose that moment to approach, slowly making her way down the corridor.

Noticing her movement, he looked up, only to freeze where he sat. His eyes widened dramatically and she could see his entire posture tense up.

He remained like that for what could have been moments, but Manon couldn’t be certain. She was too focused on taking in the details of his face to worry about meager details like time. Maker, but she’d missed him. To see those warm, brown eyes staring so deeply into her soothed her to her core.

Before she knew it, he was rising from his seat, his eyes locked on her the whole way. He took one step and then another, and in seemingly no time at all, he was coming at her in a run before taking her into his arms. He spun her around once before practically crushing her into his embrace.

“Maker…” he gasped, his voice choked and desperate. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream…”

He didn’t look her in the eye quite yet, just kept his nose pressed tightly against the juncture of her neck.

“It’s not…” she whispered back, turning her neck to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m here.”

He turned to look at her then and she could see the tears welling in his eyes.

A sniffle escaped him before he pulled her mouth to his with desperation. She closed her eyes, tears trickling down her own cheeks as she returned the kiss with passion. They both attempted to pour out the affection they’d missed out during the past year and a half, but given the depth of their feelings for one another, that wasn’t entirely possible.

Ultimately, they broke apart for air, panting heavily as they stared into one another’s eyes. Alistair stole another kiss from her before reaching up to lightly caress her cheek.

“You came back…” he murmured, his face breaking out into a heartfelt smile.

“I told you I would,” she said softly, leaning up to kiss his nose.

He paused for a moment, seemingly in thought. “Does…does this mean…?”

“It does.” Her smile widened and her eyes crinkled with mirth. “In a matter of months, I’ll be blight-free.”

A gasp escaped him and he stared at her slack-jawed. Instead of saying anything else, he pulled her in for another searing kiss.

“Maker’s breath, but you are brilliant. I will accept any and all ‘I -told-you-sos’ for the foreseeable future.”

She giggled as he began planting kisses all over her face. “I’ll have to hold you to that.”

He pulled back from her slightly, a devious grin warping onto his face. Grabbing her hand, he said, “Come on…There’s something I’ve been dying to do since you’ve been gone.”

Beaming at him, she eagerly followed him up to their bedchambers.

\------

Letting out a contented sigh, Manon sprawled herself across Alistair’s chest. He pulled her close, planting a kiss on her temple.

“Maker,” she groaned. “I never want to go that long without seeing you again.”

“Agreed,” he mumbled, turning to her. Gently, he pushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “You can’t imagine how lonely it’s been here without you.”

She hummed softly, cuddling closer to him.

They lay like that for a few more minutes before she eventually pushed herself out of bed.

“Hold on…There’s something I need to do…” she muttered, making her way to a dresser. She pulled a nightgown over her head before reaching into her backpack, rifling around for the item in question.

“Are you cold?” Alistair asked from the bed, resting his head on his arm as he stared at her. “I could have warmed you up.”

She chuckled, not looking up at him. “No, I just have something important to tell you and I’d rather not have my tits out during it.”

He let out a snort of amusement. “Hm…Worried I’ll be too distracted to listen to you?”

“Honestly, _yes_ ,” she said with a laugh.

A few more moments passed before she found the bottle she was looking for. Holding it tightly in her grasp, she returned to bed, pulling the covers over her as she shuffled next to Alistair. Holding the potion out to him, she said seriously, “Drink it.”

He stared at it for a few seconds before looking back to her. “Is this…?”

She nodded. “I’d feel much more comfortable knowing that you’d taken the cure, too. I want us both to be back to normal as soon as possible.”

Alistair popped off the cork, leaning down to sniff the vial before his nose scrunched up in distaste.

“Yeah…” Manon said wryly. “I should warn you. It tastes worse than healing potions.”

Sighing, Alistair braced himself before downing the potion as fast as he could.

“Bleh…” he moaned, sticking his tongue out dramatically.

“Don’t whine,” she admonished, poking him on the nose. “I worked super hard to make this happen.”

“I knoowwww,” he sighed. “It still tastes like dirt, though.”

“That it does,” she agreed with a smile.

He reached for a pitcher of water, pouring himself a glass to try and get the taste out of his mouth. “So…” he said as he poured. “I can’t imagine you needed to get dressed just to give me this…So tell me, what’s on your mind?”

Manon paused, letting out a small sigh. She waited for him to finish his drink before speaking. “You know how I began this journey by reaching out to Grand Enchanter Fiona?”

He nodded as he listened.

“She, um…She told me a very interesting story. About her and King Maric.”

His brow furrowed then and he tilted his head in confusion.

She attempted to swallow the lump in her throat, to no avail. Her hands balled into fists, gripping the sheets tightly. “They had a baby…” she whispered. “A little baby boy. Born in 9:10.”

The knot in his brow grew ever tighter and he opened his mouth a fraction. “I…” he ultimately said, his voice strained. “I must be hearing you wrong, because it sounds like you’re saying…”

“She’s your mother, Alistair,” she interrupted, still not looking him in the eye.

A strained noise escaped him and he leaned his head against the bed frame. He sat there for a long while, seemingly processing what she was telling him. “But…That doesn’t make any sense…Eamon told me–”

“It was a lie. She didn’t want you to know the truth…She didn’t want you to have to suffer the fate of an elf-blooded bastard.”

He let out a noise of frustration. “So she’s…what? Been alive this whole time and never thought to reach out to me?” He scoffed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Yet another parental figure who didn’t want me…”

“No!” Manon insisted, finally turning to face him. She took his hands in hers and gazed at him seriously. “She wanted to protect you. She would have kept you if she could, but at the time, she thought she was still a Warden…They would have taken you away.” She shook her head in regret.

“And what about after?” he asked. “After she left the Wardens…She could have come back.”

“She went to the Circle after that…You know mages aren’t allowed children, either,” she said. “And even if she were allowed to keep you…I don’t think you understand her reasoning.”

Looking deeply into his eyes, she continued, “You’ve never known what it’s like to be an elf…You may have our blood, but you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the constant prejudice that our people face on a daily basis…” A shaky breath escaped her. “I wouldn’t have done the same in her position, but I can understand why she wanted to protect you from that.”

She turned away from him then, her eyes dark and regretful. “It doesn’t matter, anyway…She’s dead, now.”

Alistair reared back in shock. “Wait…what?”

She grit her teeth in frustration. “The rebel mages allied themselves with the Venatori. She died when they assaulted Haven.”

He sat there in silence, trying to process everything she was telling him.

“I’m so sorry, Alistair…” she murmured. “If I had reached out to you back then, you might have been able to meet her before she…”

“Please don’t blame yourself,” he said softly, pulling her into a hug. “You couldn’t have known any of this would happen…”

She exhaled shakily, holding him tightly.

“Let’s just focus on the good,” he muttered quietly. Pulling back to look at her, he smiled. “You did the impossible. You found us a _cure_.” His expression was utterly tender and fond and his smile turned lopsided. “You gave us the time to spend our lives together.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she shoved her face against his chest.

She was still overwhelmed by all the emotions assaulting her, but above all else, she was grateful to be in his arms once more. Somehow or other, they had managed to find their happily-ever-after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roughly two more chapters to go...We’re almost done!


	12. Cause for Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon and Alistair make good on their promise and hold a party to celebrate their victory.

The throne room was decorated from top to bottom. Streams of fabric and various ornaments hung from the railings, creating an enticing environment. A local band was playing music and various fancy foods lined the tables on the edge of the room.

The palace was more practical than luxurious, but thankfully the throne room was large enough to host a gathering of this size.

Roughly two months had passed since Manon returned home and now they were throwing a celebration in honor of her success. Most of the guests didn’t know the true meaning behind the party, of course, but they didn’t seem to mind. A party was a party, after all.

Alistair sat in his throne with Manon standing beside him, greeting everyone who showed up. They were still waiting for the guests of honor to arrive, however.

Luckily, it didn’t take too long for them to arrive. Only an hour into the evening’s festivities, the couple in question made their way through the front doors. Rima and Cullen entered arm and arm, glancing around the space curiously. She donned a deep mauve dress while he wore a black and silver getup.

A gleeful grin flashed on Manon’s face and, gripping her skirt in one hand, she rushed down the stairs to greet them. “Inquisitor! Commander!” she said excitedly, dashing up to them. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

Rima smiled warmly in greeting. “Of course. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She glanced to the man beside her, a teasing smile on her face. “Right, Cullen?”

He merely sighed before glancing to Manon. “Of course,” he said dryly, causing the two women to laugh.

“Well, well…Look who it is.” Alistair had slowly made his way over to them as well, placing a hand on Manon’s shoulder as he addressed them. “What did I tell you, Inquisitor? Lavish foods, nonsensical banter…the works.”

Rima rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’ve both made quite the point of teasing me in this matter.”

Manon giggled. “Well, it isn’t every day we meet such a big fan…” she said, causing Rima to begin blushing.

A new song began to waft from the dance floor and Alistair’s face lit up. “Oh, Inquisitor, you simply _must_ dance with me!”

She glanced up in shock. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly…”

“Nonsense!” He said with a grin, taking her hand and already leading her to the floor.

Rima glanced at Cullen in worry, silently mouthing “help me”, but he just waved at her good-naturedly. Manon figured it was his revenge for being dragged to this gathering in the first place.

She watched the two with a smile on her face as Alistair led the young woman to the dance floor, eagerly leading her in a waltz.

It was then that she realized she and the Commander were alone and she looked at him with mild uncertainty. He was staring straight at the dance floor, a slight scowl on his face as his arms were crossed.

“Are you jealous, Commander?” she asked with a raised brow. “I assure you, you don’t have anything to worry about. Alistair’s just having fun.”

He seemed shocked to hear her speak, flinching somewhat at her voice. He glanced at her for but a moment before returning his attention to the party.

“Forgive me,” he said. “It’s not that…My mind is…elsewhere…”

The discomfort in his eyes was still present and Manon frowned. From the moment they’d first met, the man had seemed to make every effort to avoid her and when they did speak, it was rather forced and uncomfortable on his end.

“I…” she began with a sigh. “Did I happen to do something to offend you?” she asked tentatively. “If so, I apologize…”

Cullen looked at her in a mixture of concern and confusion before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. “No, it’s not anything like that…It’s…” He let out a soft groan. “I’m sorry. I should have realized you didn’t recognize me by now, but I still feel guilty whenever I’m around you…”

Her brows furrowed in confusion at that. “I’m…afraid I don’t get your meaning…”

Shaking his head, he said, “No…I’d gathered as much.” He paused for a moment before eventually speaking. “Back when you saved the Fereldan Circle…you met a young Templar who’d been caged and tortured by the demons…He begged you to kill the remaining mages, but thankfully, you didn’t listen to him.”

Her eyes widened at that, recognition flooding her mind as he spoke.

“…Unfortunately, the Templar only got worse. He hated mages and considered them less than people for…longer than I’d care to admit.” A regretful sigh left his lips. “He’s made efforts to change himself, but…he still faces doubts every day. And seeing you, someone who witnessed him at his lowest point is…somewhat of a reminder of those darker days.”

She looked at him gently, her expression full of concern. “Well, I can’t say I know you that well…” she said quietly, “but the Inquisitor – who happens to be a mage – seems to care for you a great deal. That has to speak for something.”

He exhaled slowly, still not looking her in the eye.

“She makes me a better man…” he admitted quietly. “I had already left the Templars before joining the Inquisition, but…She’s the one who truly saved me.”

A soft smile curled the edges of his lips. “Her kindness knows no bounds and…even when she should have left me to crash and burn, she was there, supportive and understanding. And yet, whenever I slip up, she’s not afraid to put me in my place, either.” A longing sigh escaped him. “I don’t deserve her…”

Manon’s smile grew warmer and she turned to look at the woman dancing with Alistair. There was something special about the Inquisitor; that was for certain. Even during the short time she’d known her, Manon was easily taken with her. There was just something about her that drew you in.

Turning to Cullen, she said kindly, “You’re a lucky man. The two of you seem very happy together.”

He looked at her in surprise before muttering a quiet, “Thank you…”

The song ended then and Alistair guided Rima back to where they stood.

“Your Majesty,” she said with a laugh, “that was quite the dance, thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” he said with a wink, handing her off to Cullen.

The Commander looked at him in confusion before Alistair gave him a light tap on the back. “Go on. The next song is yours, my good man.”

A light blush made its way onto the man’s cheeks before he heeded his advice, leading Rima back to the dance floor.

Alistair stood beside Manon then, wrapping an arm around her. “They’re just so cute, aren’t they?”

She giggled in response. “Oh, absolutely.”

He hummed for a bit, his fingers rubbing circles into Manon’s arm. “Thank you, again…” he murmured, so quiet only she could hear him.

Subtly, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “For what?” she asked, playing dumb.

“For everything. For being you, for doing the impossible…for allowing me the honor of holding you each and every day.” He punctuated the thought with a stealthy kiss to her cheek.

Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes.

“You make it all worthwhile,” she said with a soft smile.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon and Alistair ponder the upcoming Exalted Council and reflect on how far they’ve come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork by serphena. Original post is here: https://jarinodragonage.tumblr.com/post/622919605586935809/i-commissioned-serphena-to-draw-manon-and

“So…” Alistair said, sliding into bed next to Manon, “Any word from Rima on the Exalted Council?”

Manon sighed, setting the paper she’d been reading off to the side. “No…I have a feeling she’s too busy preparing for it to respond to my letters.” She tugged on the bedspread before adding, “And I can’t really blame her…I still feel guilty that we can’t attend ourselves.”

Alistair leaned closer and placed his hand atop her swollen belly, planting a kiss on her cheek. “What were we supposed to do? You’re due to burst any day now and I am not about to miss the birth of our first child.”

She chuckled in response, leaning into his embrace. “I know…Still, it feels like at least one of us should be there.”

He hummed n consideration. “True…I certainly understand many of our people’s concerns…Ordinarily, an organization of their size and influence would worry me, but I trust the people running it.”

“It just feels wrong having Teagan go in our place…If we were there, we might be able to better compromise Ferelden’s fears with the good of the Inquisition…”

Alistair just smiled and shook his head. “Manon, dear, love of my life…You worry too much.” He nuzzled against her cheek, prompting a giggle from her.

“It’s what I’m best at!” she insisted, a wide grin on her face.

Sighing dramatically, Alistair glanced down at her stomach, rubbing soft circles against it.

“Come out soon, little one,” he whispered, his eyes full of love. “We can’t wait to meet you.”

A small kick could be felt beneath his hand. He jumped in surprise, while Manon winced. “Ugh, seriously…I love this baby, but my bladder can’t take much more of this.”

Alistair let out a laugh. “Yes, so you keep mentioning…”

“Hey!” she said, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “You try carrying this thing around for nine months and see what it feels like.”

Holding up his hands defensively, Alistair smiled. “I assure you, I wouldn’t be able to put up with half of what you do. Honestly, I’m amazed at your strength and perseverance…”

Manon rolled her eyes before leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Sighing, she glanced down at her stomach, laying her hand atop Alistair’s. A warm smile crept onto her face. “You are so loved, little one. It’s taken a lot of work to bring you into the world, but you are more than worth it.”

“We can’t wait to meet you,” Alistair cooed, his smile spreading wider. “There are so many things I want to teach you, things I want to share with you…”

Manon glanced to Alistair, her expression tender and loving. “You’re going to be an amazing father.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I can only hope so…Maker knows I don’t know what one of those is like.”

Manon looked at him sadly, reaching up to caress his cheek.

She was quiet for a moment before ultimately asking, “What about Duncan?”

Alistair paused for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh. “You’re right, I…He…would be a good example to follow.”

A soft smile slowly returned to Manon’s face and she hugged him tightly.

They sat there in silence for a while, the candlelight flickering against the walls. Eventually, Manon let out a loud yawn, stretching her arms before lowering herself under the covers.

“It’s late…” she said, pulling on Alistair’s arm. “We should get some rest.”

Eventually, the corners of his mouth tilted up a fraction and he nodded, giving in to her demands.

Brushing her hair from her forehead, he smiled. “Goodnight, my dear…” he murmured.

“Goodnight,” she answered dreamily, her eyelids already heavy.

With great care not to disturb her too much, Alistair leaned over and blew out the candle on her bedside before tucking the covers around her.

As she adjusted to lie on her side, he hugged her from behind, wrapping an arm around her belly.

“And goodnight…” he whispered softly, pulling her closer, “little one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand that’s it! Gosh, I still can’t believe I finished this whole thing in only a month...Though I guess since I’ve had most of the story sitting in my head since 2016, all I really needed was the motivation to get it on paper (so to speak).
> 
> Fun fact...I started posting “The Littlest Warden” almost exactly 5 years ago (June 2015)...It’s crazy to think how much has changed since then. I’ve learned a lot about writing and I’ve met so many wonderful people in this fandom.
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed! Manon is very dear to my heart so whenever I find people who like reading about her, it makes me super happy. <3


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